Behind the Charm
by lumoscrimsom
Summary: Sirius is a celebrated author, bored with the safe work he has to provide and bored with his simple life. Remus is a bartender cum gigolo, yearning for a different life, yet too afraid to reach out and take it. Non-magical, modern day AU with mentions of prostitution, rape and drug abuse.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** the pups are not mine, no matter how much I wish

**Chapter One**

"Oh, for Christ's sake. If you stay single any longer, your dick's gonna turn purple and fall off."

Sirius looked up from his manuscript and squinted, his eyes having to adjust to the bright white light pouring in from his hallway and into his study, where he preferred to keep the lights dim and calming, especially when he was carrying out such a stressful task as reading over the changes his editor had made on his first draft. First drafts were always the worst to get back, all red pen and no room for original ideas, just the shit the company wants you to write for horny teenage girls.

"My dick isn't going to fall off, Jamie." He smirked, sitting back and dropping his pen onto the desk, "Had a girl round last night. Left her bra on the floor if you really wanna go to my room and check."

"Don't call me that," James Potter grimaced. The man who was currently pestering Sirius had been his best friend since the start of secondary school – two mischievous misfits who had connected instantly and caused a reason to panic for their teachers. Behind James stood Peter and Frank, two other old friends from school, and Alice, Frank's long term girlfriend whom he had met in the same office at his job.

"Funny how _we_ never see these girls…" Peter hinted pointedly. Sirius just rolled his eyes, turning back go the manuscript and trying to focus. It was, however, all in vain. Alice danced forwards and snatched the pen, tapping him on the head with it.

"You're no fun anymore." She pouted, "Come out, just for one night!"

"That's what you said last time."

"Lord." James sighed, "So help me, Black. If you don't come out with us tonight, I swear to god I will try my matchmaking skills on you again."

Sirius sighed, defeated. James' matchmaking was the stuff of dreaded legend – the last time he had 'helped' Sirius, there had been an unfortunate incident involving a dwarf and a horse…Sirius didn't like to think of the disaster too closely. He dropped the manuscript back onto the table and pushed his chair back, standing up.

"Fine. You win." He shrugged, "Where're we going?"

"New place. Which means you are _not_ going out dressed like _that_." Alice said in disgust, wrinkling her nose at his blue jeans and Black Sabbath t-shirt. The fashion queen herself was wearing a chic, skin-tight dress with pop art all over it. Frankly, it made Sirius' eyes hurt. The guys were sporting different variations of dark, skinny jeans and button down shirts that were unbuttoned at the top to show way too much chest hair than was necessary and, basically, attractive. Even poor Peter had squeezed himself into a pair of drain pipes.

Twenty minutes later, Sirius found himself sitting in a booth in a loud bar – some new place called Frenzy where the music was too loud and the people too drunk – his hair tied back and dressed up in a pair of black jeans he could barely walk in, a black top with such a low v neckline it practically reached his navel, his leather jacket he hadn't worn in years and his boots he secretly loved but no longer wore since his motorbike had been totalled in a crash a year ago.

"Another drink?" Sirius asked, shooing James out of his way to escape the booth and the thumping speaker above their heads. They all shook their heads, still laughing and nursing pints, so he made his way over to the bar, swigging the rest of his beer back and pushing his way through the crowds to grab a bar stool. None of the bartenders took notice of him, busy with other customers instead, so he set his glass down and watched the scene buzzing around him.

At the tender age of twenty five, Sirius hadn't been out 'on the scene' for at least three years, having had problems enough to deal with and no time to leave the house – thus was born the author who rose quick to fame, Sirius Black, writer of the popular series _Eternal Legacy_.

"What would you like, sir?"

Sirius turned to answer, but stopped when he saw the barman wasn't addressing him, but an older man beside him. The customer leant forward, crooking a finger and offering a rather creepy smile and – instead of acting offended and recoiling – the barman leant in, too, to listen to whatever the man had to say. Sirius watched with interest as the barman straightened again and winked at his customer.

"Dorcas!" he shouted across to the other end of the bar, cupping his hands around his mouth to be heard over the music. A petite girl with bright red hair turned after finishing serving a customer and skipped over with a sweet smile.

"You must be Mr Howards," the Dorcas girl said in a nasal New York accent, crooking her finger at the man beside Sirius, "Come with me, sir."

The man grinned, almost hungrily, and followed the bargirl away through the crowds packed into the pulsing club. Sirius realised he was staring after them when someone cleared their throat. He jumped and turned to see the barman watching him in amusement. He nodded down at the empty glass.

"Another one?" the barman asked, propping his elbows on the bar and leaning uncomfortably close. Sirius held his ground and nodded, feeling as though he was being threatened. He shook himself mentally – that was stupid. Why would a bartender threaten him? Well, it was either that, or he was flirting. When the man came back with his drink, Sirius could have sworn he was checking him out, so – remembering himself and that he looked, even if he did say so himself, pretty damn hot – he threw the bartend a wink and turned to go back to his booth.

"You were gone long enough." James huffed as Sirius sat down beside him and took a sip of his second pint, "Where're our drinks, then, you cheap arse?"

"You all said no when I asked, you twat." Sirius smirked, "And it takes a while to get anyone's attention, so good luck up there."

"Fuck you." James said, getting up to climb all over him to get out of the booth. Sirius shoved him off into the crowds writhing around on the dance floor, watching him stumble away with a laugh.

"You're sure in a better mood after one drink." Peter observed, nodding towards Sirius' second drink, "You score up at the bar?"

"Not quite." Sirius shrugged, "One of the staff made eyes at me…I think."

"Black is back!" Alice cried, always the lightweight.

"At last." Frank agreed, "Now just get onto that dance floor and use those pulling skills to get someone who can shag you and not break company policy."

"I don't think that'd be a problem…" Sirius mused, thinking of the Dorcas girl disappearing with that leering man. Before he could explain to his expectant friends, there was a light tap on his shoulder and he twisted to see four people – four beautiful people – standing beside their booth, all smiling down at them. Peter made a low whistle and Sirius didn't blame him.

The bartend who had served Sirius was tall and lean with a confident smile, a sprinkle of light brown facial hair and long hair with blonde highlights that rivalled Sirius' own in length and had a slight wave that reminded him of stereotypical surfer hair. His eyes were drawn down to the barman's clothes – skinny jeans so tight it was sinful and a carefully casual Jack Daniels t-shirt that fit so perfectly to his toned torso he must have been sewn into it. Sirius' favourite part of the ensemble were the bright red braces attached to the belt loops on his jeans that hung down around his knees – or perhaps the matching red high tops…either way, he was definitely something to be admired.

An appreciative hum from his friends directed Sirius' eye to the other employees. They were all attractive people – there was a set of twins who stood a little too close together, with strawberry blonde hair and matching rolled up shirt sleeves and tattered converse, with a curvy woman with a head of fiery red hair and bright green eyes, sporting a short green dress and a small smile. The girl with the purple hair wasn't there, probably still with her creepy customer.

"Can we help you?" Sirius asked, leaning back in his seat and observing their visitors with interest. The redhead gave a pretty laugh.

"More like, can _we_ help _you_?" she corrected with a flip of her hair. Sirius heard Alice give a sad sigh – she had cut her hair into a short pixie style only a few weeks ago and had missed her long, luscious dark locks ever since – as the hot barman gave him an amused smirk.

"Don't you remember that _I_ served you?" the bartender asked, "Or have you got short term memory loss?"

Sirius just smiled and raised an eyebrow.

"We realised no one had been to see you and thought we would," one of the twins said in some kind of European accent, stepping forwards and directing his eyes at Alice. His twin moved up behind him and added, "I don't suppose you would like to dance, pretty little girl?"

Alice blushed profusely, much to Sirius' entertainment. Frank sat up, indignant.

"No! She's with me." Frank protested, pulling Alice closer under his arm. The twins shrugged and drifted off, looking for new prey to snag. The bartend and the girl laughed and exchanged knowing glances.

"Sorry about them," the redhead apologised with a shrug, "They have a particular taste. So, can I help you boys out at all?"

Peter glanced at Sirius, who shrugged, a smile starting to form on his face.

"Well, if you need me, I'll be by the bar." she smiled and left. The barman said nothing else, simply gave Sirius a very obvious once over and ran his tongue across his lower lip, before following the redhead.

"What was that about?" Peter asked uneasily. Frank shrugged and Alice watched the twins on the dance floor almost wistfully. Sirius sighed in exasperation. Honestly, were his friends – the people who went out almost every night and tried to convince him to leave the house at least once a week – actually more naïve than _him_?

"They're prostitutes." he informed them matter-of-factly, finishing his second pint. They all blinked at him dumbly as James finally returned, balancing a tray of drinks, a stunned look in his eye.

"What happened to you?" Sirius asked his best friend, taking a glass from his tray and standing to let him sit by the wall. James set the tray down and slid into the booth beside Peter.

"This woman…_goddess_…asked me to go to the alley with her and…"

"Do something indecent, right?" Sirius smirked, leaning against the wall of the booth instead of sitting down – no, he had much better plans than sitting and getting drunk. He could do that at home; wasn't every day you met a real life whore. James mouthed like a goldfish.

"Her _eyes_, Sirius…her _hair_!"

"What did you say?" Alice asked, having snapped out of her shock at finding out their newest Friday night haunt was, in fact, a secret brothel.

"What he always does in front of gorgeous women," Peter chuckled, "Insulted her by accident and then failed at flirting."

"Pete right, Jamie boy?" Sirius asked, patting his friend on the back consolingly and passing him a drink. James sighed desolately.

"Asked her if her tits were real."

"Mate…why?" Frank asked, thoroughly confused.

"Because he's retarded." Sirius provided, dodging a punch aimed at his crotch, "Sorry, Jamie, I need that. No hitting. I'll see you fellas and a lady in a bit."

"Where're you going?" Alice asked, looking around nervously with her new revelation in mind.

"Gonna make things interesting." He grinned, downing the rest of his third drink and tossing James the glass, who caught it deftly with a glare – years of rugby really paid off, thank god, or he would have had to pay for the glass which would have been embarrassing. Sirius turned away from them, hearing James ask the world if he was going to die alone and Peter's dry assurance that he surely wouldn't if he would just get a bloody haircut, and skirted around the dancers to approach the bar again. It didn't take long to find what he was looking for. The barman was easily the best looking one there – he turned and smiled when Sirius called for his attention.

"Another drink?" he asked over the music with a sultry smile. Sirius couldn't help but smile back. He was going to have to ask directly – the man wouldn't take hints deliberately. Bloody bastard.

"Well," Sirius smiled back, lowering his voice and leaning closer, "I think I _need_ you, so I came to the bar like your friend said to."

"Oh," the barman smirked, propping his chin in his hand and tapping his bottom lip with his index finger, drawing Sirius' attention down to _that lip_. "And is it her you wanted?"

"You."

The man's smile widened at the decisive order in Sirius' voice and curved a finger at him, indicating for him to follow. Sirius shadowed the man around to the other side of the bar and through a door when told to, marked _employees only_. He was led down an ordinary looking corridor, doors leading into offices and a staff room dotted about, but when they descended a staircase and were through another door – this one locked and accessed by a key the bartend pulled from his pocket – everything changed.

The hall they were in now had deep red carpeted walls, ceilings and floors that swallowed up every sound of their breathing, their footsteps and even the pounding of the club above them. The way was lit only by a few black chandeliers hanging low with little light coming from their bulbs and there was door after door after door, each closed, as they made their way down the corridor. Sirius was about to ask where they were going, when the man stopped suddenly – almost making Sirius walk right into him – and unlocked one of the dark wooden doors to usher his guest inside.

Only feeling hesitant and nervous now – was this really what he thought? Were they going to kill him? Sell him? Shave his hair off and sell that? – Sirius gathered his manly bravery and stepped over the threshold, hearing the man enter behind him and close the door softly. The room was decorated in tandem with the hall; the walls, the ceiling and the floor was carpeted in a soft deep red, plush carpet and a black chandelier cast a dim glow on the rest of the furniture, which consisted of a large king-sized bed all made up with red and black silk, a blood red chaise, a large black chair that reminded Sirius of a throne, a built-in wardrobe and a dressing table. Another door stood open beside the dressing table to allow Sirius to see a luxurious bathroom, fully equipped with a Jacuzzi and a walk in shower.

"So what do you want, then?" the man asked, coming around to stand before Sirius, spreading his arms, "Handjob, blowjob, the full thing. Do you prefer to top to bottom…or do you want to watch me? That's not uncommon."

When Sirius didn't answer and only stared, the man laughed, disbelieving, "Unless you didn't even know what I meant up there and I've gone and dragged down some innocent bastard."

Sirius watched him sigh heavily and retreat to the throne-like chair, collapsing into it and throwing a leg over one of the arms lazily, eyeing Sirius distastefully.

"Why do I always get the weird ones?" the man asked in exasperation, "Spit it out and quit staring. It's rude. Now, have I taken you down here against your will or did you know that I was asking you if wanted to fuck?"

The harsh, crude words sounded odd – he could hear the faint Irish accent, mostly flattened out by a London one he must have picked up from living there too long, and the rough vulgarities didn't match up to the slightly lilting accent, let alone the freckles he could now see scattered across his nose which were visible in the better lighting that allowed his face to take on a softer quality.

"No, I knew what you meant." Sirius assured him, shoving his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket, conscious that it was very warm in the room and realised it was probably meant to be, to make customers want to take their clothes off, "But I'm not here for that."

**A/N:** So what do you think? R&R :D


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** the pups are not mine, no matter how much I wish

**Chapter Two**

The barman's eyes widened slightly at Sirius' words. He rose slowly, as though to keep from frightening his customer, and approached him with an almost predatory stride. Sirius swallowed thickly when the man pushed him back against the closed door and heard him turn the key in the lock, bolting them in the room.

"Liar," the man breathed in his ear, sliding a hand up Sirius' chest, "Unless—"

Sirius jumped and swore when the barman made a sudden movement, pinning him roughly to the door and holding something sharp to his throat. _Knife_, he though, feeling a rash thrill rush through him.

"Unless you're a cop." The man hissed, his brown eyes flashing warningly. Sirius flicked his gaze over him admiringly, enjoying the way the muscles of his thigh flexed against his crotch where he had him pinned. Sure, he realised this man could probably take him out of action for a few weeks with his knee positioned and ready like that, but he highly doubted the knife pressed against his Adam's apple was going to do him any harm. 'Course, it was getting uncomfortable, so Sirius shook his head a fraction. The knife was pulled back slightly to allow him to talk.

"I'm not a cop."

The man laughed humourlessly, pulling back a little and leaning a hand on the door beside Sirius' head. Sirius watched him spin the penknife between his fingers in fascination. "That's what they all say." The barman said with a roll of the eyes, "Could be undercover."

"Honestly, my life isn't that glamorous." Sirius shrugged, "I'm an author."

The barman raised his brows and retreated back to the chair, draping himself over it, "An author, huh? Anything I'd have read?"

Sirius' first thought was, _he reads_? But saying that may have been considered rude, so he shrugged again and answered, "Heard of _Eternal Legacy_?"

The man grimaced, flicking the penknife closed and tucking it back into his pocket, "_You're_ the reason Lils is obsessed with fucking vampires and werewolves. Seriously, mate, couldn't you have kept all that shit to yourself?"

"No can do," Sirius smirked, "Had to put bread on the table somehow."

"And you couldn't have got a job in Tesco." The man sighed dramatically, propping an elbow up on the arm of the chair and dropping his chin in his hand, "So, you're here for more material, right?"

Sirius shifted his weight and moved closer, hands in pockets, "If I am?"

"You expect me to give you my life story so you can sell it to the world?" the man laughed, "Right, sounds like a great idea. Do me a favour and fuck off so I can do someone who will actually pay me for my time."

"I'd pay you." Sirius placated quickly, thinking on his feet, "I'd give you…fifty percent of the profits."

The man blinked, clearly surprised. Sirius felt a foolish sense of accomplishment for making someone so obviously streetwise and cynical think twice about his first impression on someone.

"You'd pay _me_? Fifty fucking percent? Mate, that's not funny."

"I'm not joking. I want to do this." Sirius said seriously (excuse the pun), taking his hands from his pockets and folding his arms, "I'll tell you why – I'm sick of screwing around with plotlines involving vampires and heroines who couldn't lift a finger to help themselves. I've made my money and now I want to write something gritty and dark, something that interests _me_. Goofy teenage audience be damned."

The barman lifted a brow in a supercilious manner that Sirius had to admit he admired, considering he was just offering himself up for money, "You assume my story's dark? How d'you know I didn't just _want_ to shag strange men and women?"

"Then I'll go talk to someone else," Sirius shrugged, turning to leave. The man laughed loudly, making Sirius turn back again with a triumphant smile.

"Fine, fine. Yeah, my life hasn't exactly been a blessed one." He snorted.

"So you'll do it?" Sirius asked hopefully.

"What, you wanna just talk now? I'm supposed to be on duty, y'know."

"No. I want your number. I'll call and we can have lunch or something."

The man laughed again, "This some way to get me in your bed, mate."

Sirius sighed heavily – it was going to take a lot to convince this guy he was being genuine, "I don't want you in my bed. Look, I'll get a contract drawn up if you really don't trust me."

"You don't want me in your bed?" the man asked with a smirk.

"Well, you haven't exactly been _friendly_," Sirius reasoned, "You've threatened my life and that isn't exactly a turn on." He didn't mention the fact that the feel of the blade against his skin had given him a kick; that had been more of a sad lack of excitement in his life rather than an actual fetish for knives or danger. The man's face changed in an instant – he went from standoffish and slightly laughing, to seductive and inviting.

"I don't turn you on?" he asked, standing and slinking forwards, sliding a palm up and over Sirius' shoulder to cup the back of his neck, pulling him closer. He smiled slightly, the action picking up one side of his mouth, his eyes crinkling. _He's laughing at me_, Sirius thought with amusement.

"Of course you do, it's your job." Sirius answered cockily. The man laughed again, but the sound was low, this time, and reverberated in Sirius' abdomen because of the way the barmen was pressed up against him.

"Yes. I'm very, _very_ good at my job." He murmured and before Sirius could react, lips were on his, hands pulling him closer, a tongue forcing it ways into his mouth. Sirius quickly gave in, needing little persuasion, knotting his fingers in the long hair.

The kiss only lasted a few seconds, but it was still hot – Sirius pulled back, panting, wiping a hand across his mouth mostly to hide his grin. He reached out and took the man's hand before he could pull away, producing a pen from his jacket.

"Here's my number." He said, scribbling his mobile number on the back of the barman's hand in blue ink, "Call me if you want to. If you don't want to, no hard feelings."

The man smiled slightly and motioned for him to follow. Sirius was silent all the way back up to the bar, where he leant in to be heard over the music and asked, "Your name?"

The man hesitated for a moment, before answering, "Lupin. Remus Lupin."

Sirius nodded, pleased that he had gotten an answer, "I'm—"

"Sirius Black, I know." Lupin smirked. Sirius nearly – _nearly_ – blushed and nodded, turning to go back to his friends, hoping to god that Remus Lupin would call him.

Remus watched Sirius Black go thoughtfully, leaning against the bar. That was certainly the first time he had been offered a business deal down in The Rooms that didn't involve a private hiring. Did the guy honestly mean it? No, 'course not. He was just trying to get a shag and didn't think he'd be up for it outside of Frenzy. Little did he know, Remus wasn't exactly fussed where they did it, so long as he got paid. A guy gotta eat, right?

"What's got you lookin' so glum?"

Lily Evans stood beside him, offering a shot glass of what looked like jaeger, so he took it and threw it back without hassle, enjoying the warm, tingling sensation as it went down.

"Some guy tried something funny." He shrugged, trying to come off as unconcerned. Lily, however, assumed the worst and looked about the club indignantly, ignoring the customers hollering for service at the bar and leaving them to the regular bartenders. "No, no, nothing like that," he added quickly, "I'm fine. I just mean…I dunno. You scored?"

Lily frowned at him, apprehensive, "Not one. Some idiot with god-awful hair asked me if my boobs were real, though. Smacked him for his trouble. Seriously, if anything happened, Rem, I'll tell King right now and—"

"Lils, I'm fine." Remus stressed. King, or Kingsley Shacklebolt as he had been christened, was the owner of Frenzy and their boss, too, when it came to The Rooms. When the guy got a whiff of any trouble, it often turned out bloody. A court case had come out of one of the incidents a year ago – a nasty one that had ended up dragging Remus' past into the spotlight. He had had to stay off work for a month and hadn't eaten for most of it.

"F'you say so." Lily shrugged tugging her dress down, "I'm gonna go back out there. Man the bar for me, Rem?"

"Nah," Remus said, turning his nose up, "I'm gonna go pick someone up; shift's almost over anyway. Fancy a good shag, off the record, like."

"Rem, you slag." Lily snickered, sliding through the crowd at the bar and going in search of her next client. Remus followed, melding into the middle of the dance floor. It didn't take long for him to attract a partner. He loved the club, he always had loved clubs. The music pulsed through his body, the bass thumping beneath his feet, making him unable to resist. He started to move, eyes sliding closed to feel more of the music, more of skin moving against his, slick with sweat and need. A need to touch and a need dance. To feel connected to something larger than oneself.

He had already singled out who he wanted and one longing glance had his prey approaching him in mere seconds. Hips ground against hips, hands gripped hair and mouths found skin and lips. The song ended and the next started up. Whispered words, a taxi, an address, pleading. Remus nodded, not bothering to hide a smug smile.

Afterwards, Remus stared up at the ceiling, smoking a fag. The guy he had picked up hadn't been too bad, no, but disappointing in the way that he was way too obvious – Remus had a type. Tall, muscular, with cropped, blonde hair. There were reasons, of course. There were always reasons. No matter how much this random guy from Frenzy resembled _him_, it wasn't him. It never could be – no, never _should _be and he needed to get that into his head once and for all. _Over_.

Remus sighed and sat up, clenching his cigarette between his teeth to run his hands through his hair and start pulling on his jeans and t-shirt, moving silently so as to not wake up the guy who was snoring louder than a fucking chainsaw. Remus sure could pick 'em.

Clothes and shoes successfully donned and his latest squeeze still snoozing like a drugged bear, Remus started his usual post-shag scan, looking around the room for anything of value. Finding nothing, he picked up the guy's wallet instead, carelessly left on his bedside table, and took the rest of the money and the two credit cards. He could get Fabian to get the pin with his wily ways and voila! Money in the bank after a successful day – well, _night_ – at work. Sure, the guy had already paid him and he _was_ working off the clock so he didn't have to give it all to King, but come on. He had to eat and of course there were the necessary luxuries.

Collecting the stranger's mobile phone on his way (fully intending to sell it to someone he knew needed one for an unreasonable amount), Remus exited the apartment. He stood on the corner outside, finishing his smoke and called a cab from his newly acquired phone, not bothering the fret about whether or not the guy would call the police to report his missing stuff. What would he say, anyway? 'Yeah, my stuff's been stolen by this illegal whore I found at this bar.' Right. Remus snorted in amusement and flicked the butt of his cigarette when the taxi pulled up.

**A/N:** Oooo, I love writing a naughty Remus! (^.^) ^( ^.^ )^ (^.^) R&R!


	3. Chapter 3

**Warning: **some puppy action, so this chapter is a hard M, or maybe a light R

**Disclaimer:** the pups are not mine, no matter how much I wish

**Chapter Three**

Sirius groaned when he reread the invitation. Alice gave him an 'I told you so' smirk.

"Don't even bother." Sirius warned her.

"Told you so!" Alice sang, dancing away and sticking her tongue out when he threw the invitation at her, "Why would I bring Frank's tux? To make you look at it?"

"Shut up, midget." Sirius shot back, grinning at her pout, "I don't know why I forgot it was black tie…I just hate these things."

"You have to go to promote your work." She reminded him, shoving the tux in a bag in his face, "Now, go change. I have to go meet Frank for dinner. You can bring it back tomorrow when we have lunch with James. Spill wine on it and you pay the dry-cleaning bill, Black."

"Yeah, yeah, give it here."

The event was as dull as the last one and the one before and the one before that. Sirius drifted around the room, making small talk when he had to, mentioning his books when his agent gave him daggers from across the hall. When he wasn't being forced to mingle, he was eating from the buffet, avoiding irritating questions about possible sequels and women's interpretations of his work. His agent answered those questions, saying yes, there will be more books and yes, that is a brilliant way of describing the everlasting love between the two main characters, even though she knew far too well that Sirius would catch fire whilst taking a bath before he would write another story dripping with cliché romance.

"You're not helping me out at all, here, Black," his agent, Poppy – a short woman with a no fuss blonde bob and a can-do attitude along with a particular liking for grey suits – snapped, "No one is going to want to read you work if they know you're a miserable bastard."

"They'll always want to read my work." Sirius answered, lazily confident and bored, "Even my new stuff."

That got a decent response.

"_What_?" Poppy demanded, "I didn't know you've been writing again."

"Yeah," he shrugged, popping a shrimp in his mouth, "It's a bit different this time. Only got half of chapter one planned and haven't even gotten a summary, but I think I'll get some ideas pretty soon."

"How can you be so sure?" Poppy asked tiredly. Sirius didn't say, but he _was_ sure because he had just spotted none other than Remus Lupin standing on the other side of the room, looking delectable in a tux and with his hair scraped back into a band, tendrils escaping either side of his face. _What's he doing at a high profile charity event_? Sirius thought to himself as he watched Lupin nod to a question some stuffy old man had asked. A tall, willowy blonde woman was hanging onto his arm, laughing and talking animatedly. Sirius watched with interest – did Lupin have a partner? A _rich_ partner, judging by their presence at this event. If they were together, what was he playing at by whoring himself out at some underground brothel?

"I'll be back in a minute, Popp," Sirius said distractedly, interrupting her mid-lecture and drifting away.

"Where're you going?" she demanded, "Come here and _mingle_!"

"I'm gonna take a leak," Sirius called over his shoulder, "Unless you'd prefer me to piss on the other guests?"

Poppy muttered something like, "_I'll_ piss on _you_," and ducked away when people stared. Sirius made his way over to the loos (he really _did_ need a piss), which just happened to be near to where Lupin and his woman were standing. As he passed, Sirius glanced at the other man just as Lupin spotted him and raised an eyebrow. Sirius had no time to react, disappearing into the bathroom and making his way to the urinals.

The door opened and closed behind him as he finished up and moved away to wash his hands. He looked up into the mirror to see Lupin standing behind him, leant back against the door with folded arms and a small smile.

"Didn't expect to see you here." Sirius commented, turning to dry his hands on a paper towel and throwing it into a bin. Lupin shrugged, unfolding his arms and stepping nearer.

"Same here."

"I'm rich." Sirius grimaced, "I'm always invited to these things. Someone always wants my money. Who's the woman?"

"Who? Ah, the blonde one. She's paying me to keep her company tonight and thought I could come along to this as her date, too."

"And by keep company…"

"I mean fuck her in the car on the way back to her place." Lupin answered, cracking a grin. He laughed at the surprised look on Sirius' face which brought just how close he had gotten to Sirius' attention. Lupin had backed Sirius up against the sinks, his hands on the counter either side of him. He really _was_ gorgeous…

"And would your client mind if—"

Sirius didn't get a chance to finish his question, as Lupin had leaned in and kissed him. It was only a light kiss, almost chaste in its nature. When he pulled back, he grinned.

"Oh, yes," Lupin laughed, "She'd mind terribly."

He closed the distance between them again, pulling himself up tight against Sirius, his hands roaming down his back, slipping under the waistband of his trousers. He gave Sirius a heavy lidded grin.

"God I hate women."

"Why don't you work exclusively for men, then?" Sirius asked, his breath hitching as Lupin kissed a trail down his jaw and neck. One of the hands clutching his buttocks moved around to undo his trousers one-handed.

"Double the market, double the profit." Lupin answered simply, "Which way do you sway?"

"Both." Sirius breathed, watching as Lupin slid down his body and reached into his boxers to pull his semi hard cock out and stroke it a few times. Lupin looked up with a lurid smile.

"Nice cock." He commented casually. Before Sirius could reply, Lupin had taken him into his mouth and was giving him the kind of blowjob you got in heaven. It didn't take much before Sirius was panting, his head thrown back and fingers knotted in Lupin's hair with a murmured, "_shit_."

Lupin stood and watched Sirius gather his wits, tucking himself back into his trousers and doing them up. Sirius looked away when Lupin swallowed pointedly with a grin like a Cheshire cat. He was about to ask if he wanted him to return the favour, but Lupin turned to leave as though nothing had happened.

"Wait!" Sirius said quickly, sounding more desperate than he would have liked. Lupin turned expectantly. "Will you meet me for lunch tomorrow? About that conversation, I mean. Call me."

Lupin thought it over for a moment before nodding, a minute movement that made it seem like a struggle to agree. Sirius didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable and was about to say so when the other man turned again and left. Another man entered, looking at Sirius suspiciously when all he did was stand there and stare at the door, so he turned and washed his hands for a second time, unable to suppress a smile.

At noon the following day, James was walking to work and dropping Sirius off at his own destination at the same time. His friend was worried about him meeting with a prostitute, but Sirius shot down his offers to skip work and stay with them to make sure 'that weirdo Lupin fellow' didn't try anything funny.

"Like blow me in the toilets?" Sirius asked with an innocent smile, making James cringe.

"For the millionth time, _please_ keep your…adventures, to yourself."

"I really don't see what the big deal is. You managed to land a date with that redhead from Frenzy. I'm not dating this guy, I just want his story."

James sighed, looking like a troubled father giving up on an unruly teenager, "Fine, fine. Just don't get mugged or anything. Does Poppy approve of this new book?"

"Haven't told her yet." Sirius shrugged, ignoring his friend's second sigh, "I'll finish it first. She'll have to get it published, or I'll sell it to another house. Everyone wants Sirius Black on their CV."

"Please don't talk about yourself in third person, it's damned creepy. We're here," James added as they stopped before a small café down a side street where no fans would be likely to bother him, "Be careful."

"I still reckon that Evans chick is more dangerous than Lupin." Sirius argued, "A girl's gotta be able to look after herself against monsters like you. Lupin probably gets more women than men."

"I'm no monster," James said, puffing his chest out, "I'm prince charming. Now get in there before I slay you. See you later. Alice is cooking at her place tonight, remember."

"I don't think I can go." Sirius said, avoiding James' eye, "Got things to do, stories to write."

"None of that. I know what date it is." James scowled, thwacking him on the shoulder, "You're coming even if I have to drag you out of that dusty old manor myself, you recluse. You're twenty five, not sixty five. Act like it and take advantage of the fact that you have a social life."

"Whatever," Sirius shrugged, waving a dismissive hand. James sighed again and left, waving over his shoulder. Sirus watched his back as his retreated and entered the café. It was a small place, empty but for a young woman behind the till blowing bubbly gum and a man in a coat reading the newspaper and sipping on tea. He took a seat at the back, hanging his leather jacket over the back of the chair. After having worn it to Frenzy, he had found his love for the garment had been thoroughly rekindled.

Remus hesitated before entering the café. It was a small place, dingy and practically derelict – a strange place for a millionaire author. He took a deep breath and stepped instead, summoning an easy smile when he spotted Black across the room. Joining him at the table, they were able to do little other than greet each other as the waitress approached and took down their orders for coffee and a couple of cakes, Black insisting on footing the bill and Remus accepting graciously.

"So," Remus started, glancing around pointedly, "Come here often?"

Black laughed softly, "I know it's a little…no one cares about who I am here. If I went to somewhere like Starbucks, they'd be all over me." He sighed and muttered, "Dunno why everyone's so bothered by such a dull writer, anyway."

"You're not exactly dull." Remus chastised. Black looked nonplusses, so he expanded, "Most authors don't look like they've just stepped out of a Calvin Klein ad."

Black smirked, leaning back and waiting as the waitress returned with their cakes and coffee. Black added milk, where Remus didn't touch the milk but added four heaps of sugar instead, taking a sip and enjoying the sweet taste.

"You're gonna rot your teeth." Black observed with a small smile, nodding at Remus' coffee and chocolate cake whilst taking a forkful of his own cheesecake.

"Worth it." Remus answered around a mouthful of chocolate icing, making Black laugh, "So. What do you want to know?"

Black turned thoughtful and tapped his fork against his lower lip, drawing Remus' attention there, "Are you attracted to me?"

Remus had half expected that question and smiled demurely, "Why, Mister Black, I didn't realise that a blowjob and a comparison to a Calvin Klein model could have been interpreted that way."

Black smiled, but changed topic, "What did you want to do when you were younger? I doubt _this_ was planned."

_Here we go_, Remus thought heavily, _the inevitable 'why' questions_. He had accepted this interview as a sort of challenge, to prove to himself that he had moved on and could talk about his past candidly. This was the greatest challenge – telling someone who wanted to delve into his deepest secrets, to understand them in a way that would allow him to twist and manipulate them into a bestseller.

"I was always a good student—" Remus started, but Black held up a finger and rummaged in the jacket hanging over the back of his chair, producing a miniature notepad and a pen – the same pen with which he had scribbled his number on Remus' hand.

"Sorry, go ahead." Black nodded with a small, sheepish smile. Remus directed his gaze at his black coffee and started again.

"I was always a good student. I loved history and art the most – was on track to get A stars in my GCSEs and was determined to do the same in my A levels." he cleared his throat, squeezing his eyes shut at the unwelcome images taunting him, "I…I had to drop out of school. Shame, really, I was doing pretty well even if I do say so myself. I was planning to get my doctorate."

Remus looked up to see Black scrawling away on his notepad. The pen paused when its wielder glanced up to see why his subject had stopped talking.

"What did you want to be?" Black asked, pen poised and ready, "Why would you need a doctorate?"

"Wanted to be a curate for a gallery, or something." Remus shrugged, "I've always loved painting, but I've loved others' work even more. To work with art by the greats, like Monet. He was always my idol, purely because I've always been crap at landscapes and wish I could paint like he could."

"What made you drop out of school?"

"My stepfather."

Black looked up, surprised, "What? Why?"

Remus took a slow, deep breath, trying with all his might to summon whatever it would take to tell him the next part. He couldn't. God, he _couldn't_. Couldn't see another face filled with sympathy and revulsion. He looked up at Black in panic, his fingers reaching to start scratching the back of his other hand, digging into the skin roughly. Black frowned down and reached out to stop the habitual action. Remus jumped, quickly retracting his hands from the table and, with a brief apologetic glance at the other man, stood and turned to leave at a run.

Sirius watched Lupin hurry from the café in nonplussed surprise, before jumping up, throwing his jacket on and dropping a few notes onto the table before scooping up his notepad and pen and dashing after his subject.

He had only made it a few yards down the road until he found Lupin, waiting for him near a traffic light. Sirius eyed him, waiting for him to bolt again, but Lupin just avoided his eyes and shrugged noncommittally. Without a word Lupin turned and started off at a brisk walk, jerking his head for Sirius to follow. Not a word was spoken between them until Lupin stopped outside a narrow house in the midst of a dodgy neighbourhood.

"My flat's in the basement." Lupin said, leading Sirius down some steps to a small door beneath ground level and let him in. The flat was dark, because of its location under the house, until Lupin went around turning on a few dim lamps. It was, as far as Sirius could tell in the gloom, a complete mess. Newspapers and magazines were strewn about everywhere, there were ominous looking stains on the carpet and the one threadbare sofa. The television had a huge hole in the screen, broken glass still lying on the floor before the ancient set. There was a funny smell hanging in the air, too, something that was a heady, sickly sweet.

Lupin answered the question of the source of the smell when he rummaged around down the back of the sofa and pulled out a packet of roll up and something other than tobacco.

"You ever get high?" Lupin asked, offering the stuff to Sirius, who wrinkled his nose, "Oh don't look like that. It's just weed. Not like I do heroine or any of the hard stuff."

Sirius didn't answer, but sat when Lupin gestured towards the sofa and took a seat himself, lighting up and exhaling a long line of sweet smoke.

"Why do you smoke marijuana?" Sirius asked, itching to get his notepad out, but resisting, sensing it wasn't the right time after Lupin had run out on him only half an hour ago. Lupin shrugged, considering the roll up between his fingers for a long, thoughtful moment.

"It's one of the ways I forget. Look, Black—"

"Sirius," Sirius corrected, "I think it's safe to say we're on a first name basis."

Lupin – Remus – smiled briefly and continued, "Sirius, I'm sorry about before. It's hard to talk about…to relive what happened and…" he trailed off, looking away to take a long drag, closing his eyes. Sirius watched the way his cheeks hollowed as he inhaled, swallowing heavily. "I don't think you'll feel comfortable talking to me if you knew."

"We've only just started this thing, I'm sure you'll feel better confiding in me soon. Anyway, me knowing is kind of the whole point of this arrangement." Sirius chuckled, "Also, I wouldn't call this feeling comfortable."

Remus lifted an eyebrow in question.

"Having the guy who gave me the best blowjob I've ever had last night, sitting next to me in an empty flat makes me feel the exact opposite of _comfortable_."

Remus laughed, throwing his head back and letting the sound fill the room, making Sirius laugh in turn at hearing it. "The best, huh?" Remus asked, grin still in place. Sirius just smirked. "Well, that's what you get from the best in the business. Imagine how good it could have been if I'd made you pay."

They laughed again, quieter this time, ending it when they caught each other's eye. After an awkward moment of staring, Remus cleared his throat and got to his feet, gesturing vaguely over his shoulder.

"Want to see the other way I forget?" he asked. Sirius stopped himself from making a distasteful joke about the bedroom and nodded silently, standing up to follow Remus through to another room. Here, the walls were painted white to reflect the little light the small, high window provided and was completely spotless, apart from the canvasses and easels scattered around, some splashes of colour peeking out from under paint splattered sheets. Sirius noticed how Remus stubbed out his roll up on the wall outside of the white room and made sure to breathe out all of the toxic smoke before closing the door behind them.

"Don't allow your distractions to mix?" Sirius asked with interest. Remus shrugged, sheepish that Sirius had noticed the routine. "Can I see some of your work?"

Remus nodded and moved to lift some of the sheets from the canvases on the floor. Sirius knelt down to examine a certain one of a night-time scene of a river under a canopy. He heard Remus kneel beside him as he stared at the painting.

"I thought you couldn't paint landscapes?" Sirius asked in awe, looking at Remus, who was frowning critically at the canvass.

"I can't. Look at it – the brush strokes are all wrong for the feeling of the piece I'd tried to—"

"I think it's beautiful." Sirius interrupted softly, still watch Remus as he tucked his wavy highlighted hair behind an ear. Remus turned and coloured slightly, dimming a few of his freckles as he did. Eyes on the other's mouth, Sirius leaned forward and pressed his lips against Remus'.

Unlike their other kisses, this one wasn't hot and deep, leading down one obvious road and promising pleasure. This time, it was light and sweet, slow and unrushed – intense even whilst the heady passion was taking a backseat.

It only lasted a few short moments – just as Sirius was starting to enjoy himself, Remus pulled away, stumbling to his feet and pressing himself back against the wall, staring at Sirius with wide eyes, like a deer caught in the headlights. Sirius stood, taking a step towards him and lifting a calming hand, unsure of what he'd done to provoke such a reaction.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"_Go_." Remus gasped, looking away, "Just go."

Sirius nodded silently and left without another word.

Remus only relaxed once he heard the front door close, sliding down the wall and putting his head in his hands. Sirius…Sirius…god. He'd ruined it again – the guy had obviously liked him some and now he'd gone and freaked out on him. There goes another possible step forward. Again.

With a sudden, furious burst of violence, Remus leapt forward, ripping the cover from one of the canvasses and whipping his pen knife out to tear through the taught material, slashing three long rips. He sat back on his haunches, chest heaving, staring down at the remains of the handsome face and short blonde hair.

"This is your fault." he whispered, climbing unsteadily to his feet and going through to the kitchen to grab the remaining bottle of anything he could carry from his fridge.

When Lily came round after he had avoided ten of her calls, Remus was slumped on the floor against the sofa where Sirius had sat, a dozen or so empty bottles lying around him. Lily sighed softly, going over to him and sitting beside him, letting him cry himself into a drunken sleep on her shoulder.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** the pups are not mine, no matter how much I wish

**Chapter Four**

He didn't attend Alice's dinner that evening. Days and weeks passed and the day grew closer. The day Sirius Black's life had collapsed in on itself. All contact with those who weren't necessary was severed, no matter how much his editor called, or how much Alice needed Frank's tux back. Sirius' own, that had come back from the dry cleaners, was sent out to Frank by express delivery and Peter was sent to explain the bare minimum of details to Poppy. As they had done the previous year and the year before that, people left him alone, quickly getting the message and leaving him to his grief.

The grief was always there. The day after it happened, the four years of providing for a broken family, the two years after that of pure loneliness and grief, it was always there. Waiting for the moments when he thought he had forgotten. But then he remembered to grieve again and nothing mattered. Only his loss.

On the anniversary of the day it happened, James found his best friend of fourteen years sitting in a dusty corner in the bathroom, shaking. The bath was full and overflowing, the taps still pouring water into the tub, drenching the floor and pooling around Sirius' feet. Sirius' clothes and hair were dripping, his hands clenching at the side of the bath.

It took a while for James to get Sirius out of the bathroom, the other man begging, pleading, convincing himself that he needed to let the whole manor fill up with scolding water so he could drown with the memories congregated there. Once Sirius was in bed, wrapped in a thick quilted robe and tucked under half a dozen blankets, James offered to stay with him for a few days. Sirius answered quietly that he needed to be left alone, that he would be fine again soon, once the ghosts had stopped haunting his every breath, and that he would be around James' house to meet his new girlfriend – a pretty redhead he had met at Frenzy.

Frenzy…Remus Lupin. He had tried to call, to apologise for his reaction when Sirius advanced on him, but he didn't get to talk to Sirius. James had been there to answer the phone every time, to tell any callers that Sirius was unavailable for comment, assuming each caller was either the media or the press without listening for an explanation from whoever was on the other end. But it didn't matter, nothing and no one mattered. So what if someone else had pushed him away? That was good. Good. People he loved got hurt, ruined themselves. Died.

So James left Sirius in the manor full of ghosts, alone and blank faced.

Once the sound of the door closing downstairs echoed through the house, Sirius rose, the blankets on the bed dragging along behind him a short way. He drifted downstairs, passing _his_ room without pausing, certain of what he wanted to do, letting his feet carry him downstairs and into the front room. He paused for a moment in the doorway, staring at the greying sheets covering the old, ornate furniture, at the dust-filled cobwebs adorning the corners of the room and the chandeliers. At the carpet that had been ripped up with bare fingernails, patches and the edges still visible in some places on the dark floorboards.

Breaking out of his reverie, Sirius moved slowly towards the mantelpiece and reached up towards the decorative knife on its stand. He wiped both sides of the blade on his sleeve before pulling the sleeve up and positioned the edge against the inside of his wrist. He hissed quietly as he pulled the knife across his skin, drawing a line of dark blood. Satisfied with the blade, Sirius undid his robe and lifted his shirt, pressing the tip against his abdomen…

The door opened, footsteps padded through the hallway and paused behind him. A flurry of movement and the loss of the knife. Hands grabbing and fighting, pushing. Cursing, shouting, imploring, howling. Questions and queries Sirius couldn't answer. _Why? Is this why you sent me away? I thought it was getting better, wasn't it? _Wasn't it?

James helped Sirius back up to his room, soothing him and giving promises of hot chocolate and company, while Peter hung back, watching with a keen eye, thumbs tapping away on the silent keyboard of his phone.

Remus let himself into The Rooms and went through into the main entertaining room, where the bar was set up by the poles and the poker tables. He flicked the lights up further, lifting a brow at Dorcas and twins with whom he always worked his shifts.

"Hey!" Fabian protested, straightening his shorts surreptitiously as his brother, Gideon, dropped gracefully from one of the poles, scowling. "We're warming up, you tosser. Turn the lights back down."

"You need to warm up in the dark?" Remus asked drily. Dorcas grinned.

"'Course!" she chirped in that excitable way of hers, "Sets the mood."

"Plus he's hot." Their bargirl winked from where she was cleaning glasses, "Looks good in the dark, that one."

"He's gay, sweetheart." Remus reminded her with a grin as he set his duffle bag on one of the tables, "Who've we got coming down tonight? Anyone interesting?"

"Nah." Gideon said, wrinkling his nose, "Group of old, rich fogies."

"Great." Remus said sarcastically, rolling his eyes and pulling his shirt over his head before kicking his shoes off, "I was just in the mood for some wrinkly tits."

"They're here in, like, ten minutes." Dorcas informed him, "Why're you so late?"

"Dunno, just was." Remus shrugged, turning away as he forced his way into his skin tight leather trousers and shoved his bag under the bar. The twins eyed him hungrily, eyes scouring over his torso. Truthfully, Remus had tried to call Sirius several more times, which was why he was late – instead of some guy answering and snapping that 'Sirius Black has no comment. I suggest you tell your boss to shove your article up your bloody arse', no one had answered at all and the phone had been left to ring. He was reluctant to admit it, but Remus was curious as something had obviously happened and – he confessed – worried.

"Where's Lils?" he asked changing the topic and turned slightly to stop their bargirl from staring at him. She was new, so obviously hadn't yet received the memo, _don't stare at Remus Lupin's scars or he will maim you_, so he let it slide. This time.

Just as the question left his lips, the door burst open and Lily ran at him, grabbing his arms and breathing hard, her eyes wide. Remus stared, startled by the sudden entrance.

"Rem, you're boyfriend!" she gasped. Remus blinked, blank.

"Lils, I don't have a boyfriend, you know that."

She shook her head impatiently, "Fine, fine, that guy you've been worried about, the author guy."

Remus' eyes widened to match hers, "Sirius? What about him?"

"James said he's locked himself in his house. He could be suicidal."

_What_? Remus stared, breathing deeply. He turned away, eyes darting around the room, avoiding the stares of the others. "Who's James?"

"Oh, err, Sirius' best friend. That guy who asked about my boobs upstairs when you met Sirius. You know, the guy I've been seeing—honestly, Rem, for fuck's sake, that doesn't matter! You have to—"

"Why would this guy think I could help?" he asked flatly.

"He doesn't. He hasn't worked out I know you yet."

"Well of course. Sirius would have told his best mate all about the prostitute he wants his next work to be on. Ashamed to be connected to a whore?" Remus asked sharply, turning with flashing eyes, "Hasn't he worked out that you're the same as me and not just some pretty waitress? Afraid he won't want to go where hundreds of others have already been?"

The other gasped, but Remus was slow in seeing the slap coming. He didn't touch the stinging mark that was sure to be forming on his face as he stared Lily down.

"I know you're upset and confused about this guy," she said, the shake in her voice giving away how hurt she was by Remus' words, "but don't take it out on me."

Remus looked away and made his choice. He turned away and reached under the bar for his bag, pulling his jacket out and throwing it on. "Tell King I'll do an extra shift tomorrow night." He called over his shoulder as he left, Lily shouting the address after him.

Remus still didn't know why he was there. He had climbed from the taxi five minutes ago, knew full well that there could be a man trying to do himself in, in the house in front of him, but was still hesitating. Why should he care, anyway? This guy wasn't his problem. They'd met all of three times and here he was, running over to his place at the drop of a fucking _hat_.

He'd cared before and it had almost killed him.

_Hesitating could kill_ him, his conscience murmured, curled up and forgotten in the dark corners of his mind. Remus sighed and approached the house – manor, more like – glancing around nervously. It wasn't exactly the kind of place he preferred to be when it was dark, all trees and whistling wind. He reached the door and tried the handle. Locked. Well, he'd be damned if he could ever be slowed down by such a trivial thing as a _lock_.

Pulling his penknife from his bag, he flicked out one of the attachments he had modified himself for this kind of thing and slid it into the lock carefully, using another to shift the mechanisms inside until he heard a _click_. Extracting the knife, he put it away and pushed the door open slowly, stepping inside silently. Deciding against calling out and letting anyone here know just who he was, Remus dumped his bag and glanced around silently instead.

Even the entrance hall was big – too big – and grand. Anyone could see that this was a wealthy man's manor. They would, however, have to ignore the greying sheets draped over all of the furniture and the notable lack of light, only a few of the bulbs in the fixtures working, and barely at that. He wondered where he should start looking and deciding at the beginning. Good job, too, as when he nudged open the first door, he hit the jackpot.

He found himself in what must be the parlour, or whatever these posh totties called their living rooms these days. Again, it was dimly lit and every piece of furniture was covered. There was even a sheet pinned across the wide windows, the curtains faded and forgotten on the floor in a sad, crumpled heap. The floor was a state, too, the carpet having been ripped up unprofessionally, leaving most of the scratched panelling showing beneath, but parts of the white carpet were still there, showing stains of something dark and ominous he chose to ignore.

There, sitting in the middle of the dusty room and clutching the neck of a smashed bottle, was Sirius Black. His hair was a straggly mess and he looked as though a decent beard was coming through. The only clothes he was wearing was an elaborate robe that hung open enough to reveal a pale chest and pooled around him where he knelt, making him look smaller than he was.

Slowly, and careful not to make any sudden movement, Remus entered the room to sit before Sirius, looking him over warily. Gradually, grey eyes looked up and focused, searching for something Remus wasn't sure he had.

"How did you get in?"

Sirius' voice was low and hoarse as though from misuse. Remus forced a grin and shrugged carelessly. "The door." He answered with more confidence than he felt. Sirius stared at him for a long moment and Remus thought he was going to swing at him with the broken wine bottle, but jumped when the other man laughed instead.

"Right, of course." Sirius chuckled softly, shaking his head. Remus smiled back cautiously and reached out, touching the hand clutching the bottle. Sirius' eyes snapped down to it and Remus froze.

"Can I have the bottle?" Remus asked gently, as though talking to a child, "Here, you're going to cut yourself on it."

"Yes, I was." Sirius said quietly. After a moment, he looked up, his eyes clearer. "I was." He repeated, voice a little stronger. He shoved the bottle at Remus, who nearly dropped it and placed it carefully on the covered chair behind him. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Remus shrugged, "We all have our moments."

"Ever tried to kill yourself?" Sirius spat bitterly. Remus tilted his head patiently.

"Yes."

That stopped him in his tracks. Sirius stared at him before clearing his throat and shifting on his knees uncomfortably. Remus considered him mutely before coming to a decision. He settled, trying to make himself more comfortable on the bare floorboards and met Sirius' eye straight on.

"You wanted to know my story." He said. Sirius nodded even though it hadn't been a question. "Then I'll tell you."

"You don't have to, I'm fine now. Sometimes, around this time of year, I'm not myself. I've snapped out of it, honestly."

"I want to tell you." Remus insisted gently. After a moment, Sirius nodded and he went on, "I told you about how I had to drop out of school. Now I'll tell you why."

Remus looked down at his hands, twisting his fingers together as he spoke, "I didn't really drop out, I went to juvy."

"What did you do?" Sirius asked. Remus looked up, seeing that he was really starting to calm down, so he carried on.

"I killed my stepfather."

Silence. Deafening, unbearable silence.

Remus didn't look up this time, "I went at him with one of those huge knives my mum kept in the kitchen. He was standing there, _taunting_ me in front of her – my own mother – and I…I couldn't take it anymore. So I grabbed the nearest sharp thing I could get my hands on. I jumped on him, caught him by surprise so he couldn't fight back."

His breath caught in his throat, fingers twisting into claws at the memory that sent violent hatred rushing through his veins, "_Hacked_ at him, just ripped through every piece of skin I could, laughing the whole time. Was there for ages…forever, just tearing his body up, mangling his face. The judge let me off the murder charge 'cause it was provoked and 'cause he agreed with why I did it, I could _see_ it in his eyes. No one in that court blamed me 'cept my bitch of a mother. Would've killed her, too, if a neighbour hadn't come in to see what all the ruckus was about."

There was a long pause that pierced Remus' ears painfully until Sirius spoke.

"Why did you do it?"

"Twisted bastard raped me." Remus answered flatly, ignoring Sirius' sharp intake of breath, "First time was after he got back from the honeymoon with mum. Once they'd picked me up from the aunt who'd been looking after me and mum was all cozied up in bed, he came into my room and said he'd missed me. Had a fucking funny way of showing it. God, I need a smoke. Shit." Remus added when his fingers twitched anxiously. He looked up and met Sirius' sad gaze, "I told her, the slag. She made me think I deserved it, that I was a bad boy who needed punishing. 'Course, I snapped and killed the motherfucker after a few years of taking their shit. Serves 'em right and I'll be fucked if I ever regret doing it. Poor bitch is scared to death I'm gonna hunt her down. I'm fine with her breathing so long as she stays in bloody Ireland and leaves me the fuck alone."

Remus realised he was getting worked up and took a deep breath, trying to calm down. He focused on Sirius' hands resting on his knees.

"How old were you?"

"What? When he first raped me, or when I went to juvy?"

"Both."

"Six when my childhood ended and fifteen when my life did." Remus answered quietly, watching Sirius' hands curl into fists. There it was. The disgust. The pity. No one wanted to be affiliated with someone with such a disturbing past. He looked up but, instead of finding revulsion or fear in the other's eyes, he saw anger and – oddly – admiration.

"What made you turn to what you do now?" Sirius asked, flexing his fingers which made Remus want to do the same, "If you went through that as a child…"

"Why would I want to have anything to do with sex, now?" Remus finished with a dark smile, "Sex is a weapon. I learnt that the hard way. I use sex to get money."

"Haven't you ever had a good experience with a lover?" Sirius asked sadly. Remus pulled his jacket tighter over his otherwise bare chest and shook his head wordlessly. "Well, since you trusted me enough to tell me your story, I'll tell you mine."

**R&R :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** the pups are not mine, no matter how much I wish

**A/N:** Eugh. I hope this chapter doesn't have too many errors. I was partying and then recovering from said partying, so I sincerely apologise if this is completely nonsensical. Anywho, enjoy... *dramatic flourish as chapter _poofs_ into existence before the readers*

**Chapter Five**

Remus didn't object – he _wanted_ to hear Sirius' story. Wanted to know why he had come in to find him clutching a broken bottle in a derelict mansion like some bad, gothic remix of a rom com. So he nodded and Sirius closed his eyes before beginning.

"I was nineteen. My brother, Regulus, was seventeen. Our mother, you see, she wasn't normal, she was schizophrenic and got violent sometimes. When she got paranoid, she'd lash out. Reg wasn't quite right, either. I'd be the first to admit that, but at the time I didn't want to see it. I'd had to drop out of college and forgo university completely so I could work three jobs to try to keep up with paying for this damned house and to put food on the table, so I was never prepared to admit that something else, my brother, was another problem to work with. This one night, they were fighting, her and Reg. I couldn't be bothered to split them up yet again, so I walked straight past. Next thing I know, there's this scream and I run in to find her lying, bleeding, over there—"

Remus looked up to see Sirius pointing over to the window and shivered, feeling as though there were ghosts watching them.

"Reg was standing over her, this stupid old knife in his hand. Only reason we had it was because it was apparently a Black heirloom. James took it from me, though, so you can't see it. I did what I had to do as a brother – I buried the body in the forest out back and told people she'd eloped with some stranger. She was a batty old bitch, so barely anyone thought to doubt me and those who did hated her enough to not care. That was when I became a bestseller. I'd always liked writing, so James let me in on what the publishing houses wanted and I created a teenage heartthrob in less than two months. Had to do something that would bring in enough money to keep the house. Reg didn't want to move. He had a…an episode whenever I mentioned it – seemed to think that mother's ghost would be disturbed if anyone else bought the place, so I wrote boring shit like that, which paid the bills, up until Reg died."

Sirius paused, his head hanging low. Remus watched him breathe deeply, calming himself.

"Two years ago, I came in from this dinner with my agent and I was late, all happy with myself for getting another book published. I was shouting for Reg to come celebrate, but he was already downstairs…I walked in just as he pushed the blade into his chest. He died right where we're sitting."

Remus reached out to touch his hand gently, "I'm sorry."

"If I hadn't ignored that there was something wrong, he could have been cared for, looked after. I see him, them, every time I come back to this damned house, but I can't bear to give up, the place where we grew up together…I don't know how much longer I can take it." Sirius said shakily before finally breaking down and heaving dry sobs. Remus blinked, unsure of what to do in such a situation. He did what felt natural and gathered Sirius in his arms, stroking his hair, hushing him occasionally. When he did calm down, Remus pulled back to look at him.

"Do you want me to help clean you up?" he asked quietly. Sirius looked down at himself as though seeing himself for the first time, and touched a hand to his unseemly facial hair. He nodded sombrely.

Remus was led up to what seemed to be the only lived-in place in the whole house. Sirius showed him into his bedroom and disappeared into the adjoining bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Once he heard the shower start up, Remus took the time to admire the room. _How the rich live, huh?_ He thought wryly, glancing around at the giant walk in wardrobe, the flat screen hanging on the wall opposite the bed, the _actual bed_ which was a fucking _king-size_ with soft, silk sheets. Remus ran his hands over the bedding, reminding himself that The Rooms had large, silk covered beds. It was different, though, knowing he didn't have to suck some old guy's dick, or find some bint's g-spot.

The room was different, though, from the rest of the house. Even though the furniture had been covered elsewhere, Remus could tell it would be grand and old, much like the faded décor. Here, it was all modern and new, a sharp contrast that could make anyone in the room forget where they were. Of course, that was probably the point. Remus stood and made his way over to a third door in the room. Inside was a study – where Sirius wrote, he guessed. The desk was strewn with ripping out pages and screwed up notes. Remus moved forward, curious to see if anything had been written about him.

Sure enough, there was his name. He leaned closer to read the elegant script.

Remus Lupin:

Standoffish

Quick to take offence

Caries a knife!

Intelligent

Interesting sense of humour

Broken

Possibly abused

Seems emotionally scarred

Talented artist

_Freckles_

Remus' eyes were drawn to those three crossed out points. Of course, they'd been crossed out because Sirius hadn't known for sure at that point…but had he really been that obvious? It hurt to think that anyone he met would be able to sense that there was something wrong about him, something off.

The shower shut off in the next room and Remus went back through to the bedroom, closing the door and sitting back down on the bed just in time to see Sirius enter wearing only a towel around his waist. The man really was quite fit. Remus observed him with interest, quirking a smile at the fluffy, towel dried hair and the shaving cream over his jaw. Sirius held up a razor, sheepish.

"I don't know if you could…my hands, you see…" he said quietly, almost apologetically, as he held to his other hand to show Remus the way it was shaking. Remus nodded, following him into the bathroom and taking the razor from him as he perched on the edge of the bath.

"Wouldn't want you to cut that pretty face." Remus smirked. Sirius raised his eyebrows, giving a small, slightly shaky smile as he leant down after wetting the razor blade to start shearing off Sirius' almost-beard. He worked in silence for a while, contemplating how odd it felt to be so close to someone else, doing such a mundane task, without the guarantee that something was going to happen between them, whether Remus wanted it or not.

"I can't believe you didn't run for the hills when I told you…well, you know." Remus told his subject warily. Sirius gave him a look that made him pull the razor back to let the other man speak.

"Are you serious?" Sirius demanded, his voice no longer shaky or meek.

"No, you are." Remus grinned. Sirius rolled his eyes.

"Har de har, like I've never heard that one before. No, really, after you heard _my_ story, you still thought I'd judge? Nice to know you think so highly of me, Remus." Sirius added sarcastically. It was Remus' turn to roll his eyes as he continued to shave him.

"You know what I mean. Stabbing your stepfather to death is slightly different than helping your little brother – who wasn't in his right mind, anyway – cover up an accident."

Remus fully expected Sirius to come back with another sharp reply, but was surprised when all he got instead was a tongue stuck out at him in a playful jest. Remus laughed despite himself and threatened that he might slip if he did it again.

He finished shortly and Sirius thanked him, leading him back into the bedroom. Remus was about to leave, job done, when he turned towards the walk in closet, but Sirius turned back to him suddenly, pulling him close and staring down at him. There was a pause, during which he thought, _why isn't he kissing me,_ when Remus understood suddenly that he was being given a choice – he had run away last time and even though his mind was screaming at him to flee, his body stood steadfast, chin tilted up defiantly as he met Sirius' hard gaze head on. Message received, Sirius closed to gap between them.

It didn't take long for them to fall onto the bed. Remus had Sirius under him, pinning him to the bed as he leaned down for another hot, urgent kiss, but Sirius twisted suddenly, rolling and ending up on top of Remus, who expected to be dominated. He was – again – surprised, however, when Sirius instead gave him another of those unnervingly gentle kisses, making him melt from beneath him.

Careful fingers with rough calluses contradicting the writer's persona feathered down his neck and chest, reached to open his jacket and push it off. Remus stiffened when Sirius stopped and opened his eyes. He was staring at his scars, at the pattern of jagged criss crossing white lines covering his chest. Realising that Remus hadn't perhaps told him everything, Sirius jumped back into action, running a hand down his chest and over his abdominal muscles, completely ignoring the scars. Remus felt an unexpected rush of affection followed by a dousing of alarm.

The alarm disappeared, however, when one of Sirius' hands dropped lower and squeezed him gently. Remus arched into the touch, holding onto Sirius, hands clenched around the other's biceps. When the hand moved to undo his trousers, Remus' grip tightened considerably. Sirius hissed in pain, scowling at Remus, who looked away.

"I don't think we should…I can't…" he whispered, unable to voice the fear of someone he possibly cared for a little too much taking advantage of him.

Sirius nodded, seeming to understand and lifted a hand to tilt Remus' face back towards him to kiss him lightly. When he pulled away, Remus' gulped at the look in Sirius' eye. The hand on his cheek drifted down to trace lightly over his scars, making him shudder.

"I know." Sirius murmured, even though he couldn't possibly. "Let me touch you?"

Remus searched his eyes and nodded, reaching down to undo his trouser and kick them off. Sirius looked him up and down. "Beautiful." He said quietly. Remus almost blushed; he'd been called a lot of things, but 'beautiful' had never been on the list. Before he could make any move on Sirius, wanting to regain control of the situation before it got out of hand, long, callused fingers wrapped around him. Remus arched again, stifling a moan at long, lazy strokes.

"Don't supress it," Sirius breathed into his ear, continuing the maddeningly languid strokes, "I want to hear you call my name in that gorgeous Irish voice."

Remus grabbed him by the hair and moaned into his ear, "_Sirius_."

Sirius gave a satisfying groan and unknotted his towel from around his waist, throwing it aside. Remus glanced down to enjoy the view, but sighed pleasurably when Sirius grasped him again, tugging more insistently and drawing out a long, humiliating keen. He glared when Sirius laughed softly and reached down to take hold of him, lifting his erection from where it was resting on his stomach. Remus earned himself his own eager moan as he caressed Sirius in turn.

"Oh, fucking shit, Rem," Sirius gasped as Remus alternated between stroking and squeezing gently. Remus grinned secretly at the nickname that only those closest to him used. "You're good at that."

"I should hope so," Remus smirked, his breath catching on the last word when Sirius quickened his strokes, "I do this for a living, you know."

Sirius paused, pulling back slightly to look at him. Remus gathered that that had been the wrong thing to say and was suddenly very aware that a possibly angry man had a hold of something he held quite dear. He was about to politely ask if he could have his cock back, when Sirius leaned down and kissed him fiercely, releasing Remus and forcing Remus to release him, too, as he pressed the length of his body down on him.

Remus gasped in Sirius' mouth, feeling them flush against each other, from lips to toes. With a sudden abandon, Sirius began to rut against him, thrusting against Remus' thigh. Giving in to something he had already surrendered subconsciously, Remus grabbed Sirius' arse and pulled him down in just the right way…and was rewarded with a heady moan. Remus lifted his hips in time against the thrusts and it didn't take Sirius long to climax, Remus following a few moments after, digging his nails into the tight muscles of the other man's buttocks.

Sirius collapsed on him, breathing heavily for a moment before rolling off to lie beside him. Remus contemplated the ceiling, tapping a finger on his stomach nervously. He didn't look at Sirius when he spoke next: "I'm sorry I couldn't…go the whole way. The last time I did with someone I…someone I…"

"Cared about?" Sirius provided. Remus continued without confirming the guess.

"I got hurt." He finished, "So thanks for understanding, I guess."

"What're you thanking _me_ for?" Sirius asked with a snort, "I should be thanking _you_. You saved my life tonight." He added in a quieter voice. Remus looked at him sideways, sensing there was something else he wanted to say. "Also, thank you for, well, meeting me I guess."

"What do you mean?" Remus asked with an uneasy laugh.

"What I said. If I hadn't have met you, I'd still be living a boring life where I made up excuses not to meet up with people, even my friends. I was headed towards becoming a recluse. When I laid eyes on you at that bar, though…" Sirius laughed briefly, "No, when I felt the knife against my throat – I felt _alive_."

He turned to face Remus with those intense grey eyes, "You make me feel alive."

Remus turned away. Sirius snorted. "Sorry. That was really corny." he apologised good humouredly, having the decency to not pester Remus for a similar reply. Instead, Sirius propped himself up on his elbow and leaned down to kiss Remus with another of those gentle, toe curling kisses that made his heart speed up and his mind scream _run! Run for the fucking hills!_

"How can you be suicidal one minute and so bloody chipper the next?" Remus asked a little irritably when he had pulled away for air, not able to think of a response. Sirius barked a brief laugh.

"Guess it must be the traditional Black madness setting in."

Remus didn't respond, a little lost for words. It turned out he didn't have to reply, though.

"Thank you." Sirius murmured again, before dropping back onto the bed and closing his eyes. Remus watched him as his breathing grew slower and more even, watched as he drifted off to sleep before him. Once he was sure Sirius was sound asleep, Remus rose as quietly as he could, trying not to jostle Sirius, and gathered his clothes to tip toe from the room. What he didn't see was Sirius' eyes opening just in time to see the door close silently behind him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** the pups are not mine, no matter how much I wish

**A/N:** slightly longer update here *takes a bow as readers applaud* enjoy

**Chapter Six**

The next morning Remus was sitting in one of his old haunts, a café he used to frequent with an old friend. He hated that he had run out on Sirus. It made him feel cheap and ashamed when he shouldn't have been, what with the way Sirius had been. So kind and gentle, and then passionate and intense. Jealous at the mention of him sleeping with others for money, even though he knew it happened.

He hadn't been horrified by Remus' past – the part he had told him about, anyway. The rest was something he would never tell a possible lover – _wait_. Since when had he started thinking of Sirius as a potential partner? For fuck's sake, he'd never had a real relationship before, so why the hell would he start now? With a guy who already had way too much baggage on board to be able to properly deal with what Remus would bring to the table, no less?

Just as Remus was about to stand up and leave to go find Lily to confide in, the door opened and in came the last person he ever expected to see again. The one person who made a habit of avoiding all possible places Remus might be, after the way the whole thing had ended. Of course, in his distress, Remus had completely forgotten to avoid the possible places _he_ might be.

"Remus?" the tall, impeccably dressed blonde man asked in surprise. Remus stared for a long moment, unblinking at the familiar wide shoulders, handsome features and cropped, blonde hair – it seemed as though he still needed the cane, too, what with the way he was leaning on it.

"Luke." he breathed. While his head screamed _OHSHITOHSHITOHSHIT, _his heart fluttered slightly at the familiar, warm smile once the shock had melted away from the man's face. Remus pulled out the other chair at his table and gestured to it. "Would you like a seat?"

A week later, Sirius was minding his own business, taking turns playing pool with the guys in James' pad and hiding from the press, who had gotten wind of his recent, annual breakdown and were still hounding his every step whenever he stepped outside. Peter was just about to hit a shot that could win him the game and a good deal of money, when James' phone rang, making his cue jump sideways and causing him to scupper the shot.

"Not fair." he scowled as James answered his phone with a bright smile. Sirius refrained from gagging – it must be _Evans_. Ever since they had made their relationship exclusive, she was the only thing his best friend could talk about and it was making him a little ill. Of course, deep down, Sirius knew that he only bitter because Remus was ignoring his calls after his little disappearing act he had let him get away with a week ago. He had realised how much he actually liked the guy, so hadn't taken it well that he was being shot down in such a cowardly way he wouldn't have expected from Remus.

"Yes it is, move over." Frank grinned, nudging Peter out of the way to take his turn. James cringed and held the phone away from his ear, allowing the rest of them to hear Evans' shrill shouts. Sirius snickered.

"Sounds like someone's in the doghouse." He smirked. James held the phone out to him, which surprised him, a grim expression on his usually jovial face.

"Yeah," he said gravely, "You are, mate."

Sirius took the phone with a frown and answered, "Yeah? It's me, Evans."

"How many times, it's _Lily_." Evans snapped from the other end, followed by a frustrated growl that made Sirius exceptionally glad she wasn't in the room with him. That crazy bitch had claws. "That doesn't matter right now. _Where's Remus_?"

"Remus?" Sirius asked in confusion, ignoring James mouthing questions at him, "How should I know? Why?"

"He was at _your_ house, Black. _Where is he_?"

There was the surname again – he'd been her favourite author before, but once she had met him properly as James' girlfriend, she'd quickly decided she 'didn't like his attitude'. Bitch. Sirius frowned at no one in particular, "Yeah, he was there a _week_ ago. Haven't heard from him since. Why?"

"Black—"

"_Why, Evans_?" Sirius demanded with a growl of his own.

"He hasn't been answering my calls for a week and he's not at his flat." Evans answered in a hurry, sounding upset now she knew Sirius hadn't heard from him either, "He hasn't turned up at work, either. He _never_ takes days off, especially down in The Rooms. Can't pay his bills without the money he gets down there—"

"Evans, stop babbling. Have you called the police yet?"

Silence.

"_Evans_." He snapped, earning himself a sharp warning glare from James.

"No." came the terse reply.

"And why not?" Sirius asked in a dangerously calm voice. There was another long pause, but Sirius waited this time for her answer.

"We can't He's got illegal stuff in his flat. They'll might want to check it out, so we can't go to the cops for help."

Sirius closed his eyes and ground his teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Can't you go get it from his flat before you call them?"

"I don't know where he hides it."

"Well that's bloody great." Sirius ground out, resting his forehead on the wall and closing his eyes, "Any idea where he could have gone?"

"None." Another pause and then a wavering, teary voice, "Sirius, I'm scared. He does stupid things when he's upset and doesn't think anyone will understand. Was he upset when you saw him last?"

Sirius sighed quietly and answered honestly, "I think so, yeah."

"God help me, if you hurt him—" Evans shrieked, making Sirius' eardrum protest at the shrill sound. He cut her off impatiently.

"Evans, calm your tits." He snapped, before calming himself, "I think he was dealing with his own stuff. Listen, come to James' and we'll think of something."

Evans agreed and hung up. Sirius handed James his phone back sombrely. The others watched him warily after the heated and flustered one sided exchange.

"What was that about?" Frank asked in concern.

"Remus is missing." Sirius said quietly, slumping against the wall, eyes going slightly out of focus. He looked at James, "She said he hasn't even turned up to The Rooms."

James grunted, frowning a little; Evans had recently told him that she sold her body like Remus did and he hadn't been happy, to completely understate his reaction. She had told him that until she was sure of a stable income, then she wouldn't give it up, to which – of course – James had offered to marry her and buy a place with her. Evans had left in a strop and James had had to chase after her. Eventually, they had made an agreement that while she was dating James, she would only work the bar, the pole, or horny old men's laps at Frenzy, but carry out nothing behind closed doors. An interesting arrangement that had brought Sirius to tears of laughter and James' fist in his face.

Later, when Evans turned up, they spoke briefly about where Remus could possibly be, having friends only in one part of London and no family to turn to. Sirius took charge when she broke down, James having to comfort her and pat her on the back in that manner Sirius had never understood. He sent them all out separately, Peter and Frank instantly offering their assistance, to search in the places Lily thought likely. They all returned that night and the next night and the next, disappointed and exhausted every time they came back with their efforts once again fruitless.

So Sirius wrote.

He knew it had been a mistake. Wasn't entirely sure why he had invited him to sit with him. Only that it had been a terrible mistake. He would pay for it, of course. He _was_ paying for it. Pain everywhere, deep inside him and over his body. Something was cutting into his wrists and ankles – he knew he_ should_ have known what it was, but he couldn't think straight. Couldn't even remember his own name. He could hear footsteps, but couldn't lift his head to see who it was, to ask for help. His limbs heavy, he only managed to open his eyes a crack. A voice he couldn't quite hear enough to understand the words and a flash of yellow or blonde. A small, piercing pain and then nothing.

Sirius' reflection stared back in dismay. He looked okay, he supposed. Presentable. He and Frank had long since exchanged their tuxes to their correct owners, so he was currently wearing his own three piece, tugging on it with a heavy sigh. The thing just didn't seem to fit _right_ anymore. Had it gotten bigger? Well, obviously not. He knew, really, that he had lost a little weight. No one could tell by looking at him – all the others saw were dark circles under his eyes, he didn't tell them he was having trouble with his appetite as well as getting to sleep.

He sighed, turning away from the mirror in the spare room at James' place. He hadn't been able to go back to the Black manor – Remus' escape the night they had bared everything to each other had driven him out, but now that Remus was missing, he couldn't bear the thought of going back. James had let him stay without a word, understanding that another ghost had been added to the house. Evans hadn't been as considerate, though. She snapped at Sirius for not giving her and James any privacy and accused him of being the reason Remus had disappeared whenever he got on her nerves.

"Black! We're gonna be late!"

Sirius closed his eyes briefly at the shrill shout, massaging his temples to try to ease the constant headache he had whenever Evans was around, before straightening up and heading out into the hallway. James was dressed similarly to him, with Evans hanging on his arm in an elegant, floor-length dress that matched her eyes. Her doting boyfriend must have bought it for her, since it had a high, square neckline instead of a plunging one, something the woman was prone to wearing and something Sirius knew James strongly disliked on her.

"For god's sake, Black, do you really have to stare at yourself for so long in the mirror?" she snapped, "We need to get going before we're late. We've been looking forward to this—"

"Enjoying yourself as James' girl, are you? Enjoying the pretty dresses and parties?" Sirius retorted, "Forgotten about Remus already, have you?"

Evans frowned, standing down as James scowled at him. Sirius paid his best friend no heed, however – Evans and he agreed on one thing and one thing alone: they needed to find Remus. He wasn't sure how, but the surfer-haired man had gotten under his skin and the only way to scratch the itch that was the other man was to find him and claim him as his own, mysterious, yet somewhat obvious relationship issues be damned.

"Let's go." Sirus nodded quietly, leading the way out to the car come to pick them up.

"For fuck's sake." Sirius muttered, spotting Poppy weaving through the crowds towards him. James stood beside him protectively – Sirius hadn't made any appearances for well over two months now and his agent wasn't happy. She was convinced he had more to squeeze out of the sickly _Eternal Legacy_ series and insisted that he promote the possibility of another book at every opportunity. The only reason he was at this event, however – which was some gathering of several publishing houses and a handful of bestselling authors like himself – was to appease James, who thought he needed to go outside a bit more, for something other than searching for Remus with Peter, Frank or Alice.

"What?" Evans asked curiously, glancing around eagerly for the object of Sirius' distress. Always ready to watch me suffer, he thought drily as Poppy reached them, looking flustered.

"Sirius Black, you're going to be the death of me." She scowled, grabbing his arm with deceiving strength and pulling him away. He glanced over his shoulder for help, but James shrugged with a wink. Sirius swore under his breath as the small blonde woman dragged him across the room. "How many times do I need to tell you? _Mingle_."

"Jeez, why can't you bother your other authors? I've seen them, I know they're here. I saw Mad Eye around here somewhere."

"Don't call him that." Poppy scolded, "He wears an eye patch now."

"Thank god. Damn thing always scared me."

Poppy skidded to a halt to push him at a group of directors who looked startled when Sirius stumbled into their midst. He suppressed a sigh and apologised, pulling out the Black charm and starting a conversation focusing on his work, Poppy listening not too discretely behind him. Once she was finally satisfied that he had successfully socialised for over half the night, she let him go, exhausted, back to James and Evans, who were at the buffet table.

"Do you guys eat these things every day?" Evans was asking, biting into a prawn and lighting up at the taste, reaching out for another one. James laughed and Sirius smirked.

"Only if you're rich." Sirius answered smugly. Evans glared at him, whilst James stifled another laugh at her expression. He rubbing her arm gently, telling her Sirius was only joking, even though he kind of wasn't. Foods like that were always at these dos and he'd never seen them on the menu at any ordinary, low class restaurants. Sirius was in the process of explaining wealthy culinary advantages, when Evans froze, staring at something behind him, shaking with suppressed rage. James frowned, concerned. Sirius turned to see what had made her react in such a way.

"What is it?" James asked worriedly. She swallowed thickly, not even blinking as she stared and lifted a finger to point at a man across the room. Sirius observed him curiously – he looked normal enough; blonde hair, handsome, in a tux like everyone else. The only thing out of place was the black cane he carried and seemed to lean a little of his weight on.

"It's him." Evans whispered, "He has Remus."

Sirius whipped back around to stare at her. "_What_?" he demanded, but she only continued to stare in shock, as though seeing a ghost. He grasped her shoulders tightly, drawing her attention to him. "_What do you mean_?"

"I think—no, I _know_ he has Remus." She breathed, her gaze drifting back to the man. Sirius released her, his hands clenching. He drew a deep breath, trying to stay in control, telling himself that Evans didn't, couldn't, know for sure. He was just some guy at a party. What were the odds of the reason Remus going missing turning up here?

"He hurt him." Evans added, the shock seeping from her voice to be replaced with a shaking irrepressible outrage. _The scars_, Sirius thought in shock. He turned slowly, fixing his stare on the blonde man across the room, eyes darting hatefully over the easy laugh, the kind smile when he asked a question. Sirius' hands shook with fury as they clenched into fists.

"Sirius don't—" James started when he stormed off, towards the man. Sirius vaguely heard Evans tell him that the man deserved whatever was about to happen and much more, but her words were soon drowned out by the chatter of the other guests as he pushed through the groups of men and women, eyes never leaving the blonde man who turned just as Sirius approached him. His polite, questioning smile disappeared the instant Sirius' fist collided with his face. The man was sent flying backwards, losing the balance his cane provided and staggering back against the wall behind him.

There was a collected gasp and then mutterings when everyone else snapped out of their shock and caught up to what was happening – which was Sirius backing the blonde man against the wall, forearm pressed threateningly against his throat. The man stared at him, surprised and more than a little pissed off.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? Do I even know you?" he snapped lifting a hand to touch the side of his face that had been punched. Sirius batted the hand away and snarled.

"_Where is he_?" Sirius hissed, leaning in close. The man's scowl quickly morphed into an innocent expression that Sirius cold see right through, having used the same one during his years of education. "If you tell me you don't know what I'm talking about, I swear to god, I will snap your fucking neck right now."

"But if I'm dead, how will anyone find out where he is?" the man whispered in his ear. Sirius roared and pulled back his fist to hit him again, harder than he had ever hit anyone before. He went to do it for a third time, when someone yanked him off the man.

"They're threatening to call the police." James warned quietly, "Come on. Home. Now."

"Let them," Sirius growled, fighting to get at the man now straightening and retrieving his cane from the ground.

"And let them search Remus' place?" James hissed, "They'll arrest him as soon as they find him."

Sirius clenched his jaw, shaking James off and sending the man a look to let him know that he would find him and end him. With a deep breath, studiously ignoring the audience of the whole room and a fuming Poppy, he turned to leave behind Evans and James. Before he could even take more than one step, however, something hard smashed into the back of his head and he hit the floor on his knees.

Head spinning, he turned as he stood unsteadily, hand going to the back of his head and coming back wet. The man was wiping his own blood from his mouth as he smirked back, the top of his cane smeared with Sirius'. Giving up all pretences of not killing the man, Sirius roared, charging the man, knocking him to the floor.

"_Bastard_." Sirius snarled, straddling the man and pinning him down, "What sort of fucking _coward_ attacks a man when his back's turned?"

"Luke!" Evans shrieked from somewhere beside Sirius in the clearing within the crowd they had managed to create. He heard a scuffle and guessed that James was holding her back, but wouldn't take his eyes off the man to see. "Where is he? What the fuck have you done with him? _Where is he_?"

"Answer her." Sirius said, his voice low and dangerous. The man – Luke – just smirked tauntingly.

"You're alright," he observed, giving Sirius a deliberate once over, "If I answered you, you wouldn't continue to sit there, would you? And I must say, I'm rather enjoying it."

Sirius pulled back his fist and snapped it forwards again, catching Luke in the jaw. The man turned back to look at Sirius with a wide, sadistic smile as sirens could be heard from outside.

"Get ready to confess." Sirius said smugly as James tried to tell Sirius they had to leave.

"I don't think so," Luke smirked, "Look at what they're going to walk into – I'm pleading self-defence, mate." His eyes widened suddenly and he looked at Sirius with a new light that made him uneasy, "You're Sirius, aren't you?"

Sirius narrowed his eyes, but didn't answer.

"He says your name in his sleep, you know." Luke informed him casually, "Even screams it when he comes."

Evans howled in outrage and Sirius dragged Luke up by his jacket and slammed him back onto the floor. "_I'LL KILL YOU_." He screamed, wrapping his fingers around the other man's throat. He didn't get a chance to do much damage, though. Hands grabbed him roughly and pulled him off of Luke, slamming him onto the floor on his face.

"You do not have to say anything—" one of the police officers started.

"Bastard!" Sirius shouted, struggling against the hold, but was unable to do much once the handcuffs were snapped around his wrists behind his back.

"—But it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something you later rely on in court, anything you do say may be given in evidence."

"I suggest you stay still." The other officer warned as they hauled him up. Sirius obeyed, eyes on Luke, who was being helped up by the other guests.

"Do you know who I am?" he called over to Luke, who raised his brows questioningly.

"Sirius Black." Sirius grinned, "Black! I'll be back really soon, _Luke_."

"I wouldn't bet on it." One of the officers said sourly as they hauled him from the room, James dragging Evans along behind. These men obviously didn't know The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. He _would_ be back and this Luke would find himself in a great deal of pain if Remus wasn't released. Sirius laughed. He threw back his head and laughed as he was lugged from the party of shocked onlookers.

**A/N2:** Sooo, can anyone see anything familiar in that last little bit? Anything that reminds you of the way canon Sirius went down? Hmm? Anywho, one of my other stories is getting a bit of stick and I'm feeling a tad down, so some reviews would really cheer me up!


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** the pups are not mine, no matter how much I wish

**A/N:** Just one more after this chapter, I think, then it'll be finished

**Chapter Seven**

Just as he had told everyone, Sirius was out of the station fifteen minutes after he had been brought there by disgruntled officers who offered him a lift back home. He directed them to James' apartment instead and burst inside to find James and Evans, still dressed up as he was, pacing the room restlessly with Frank, Alice and Peter, all looking tired, sitting around and waiting. When Sirius burst through the door, saying a distracted thanks to the officers who had apologised to him continually on the drive over, his friends jumped up and accosted him with questions: _how are you? The Black name worked again, then? Why didn't that bastard get arrested, too?_

"Shut up!" Sirius snapped, holding his hands up. Once they'd complied, he sighed heavily, undoing his bow tie and the top few buttons of his shirt. "Peter!"

"Yes?"

"Get on to the phone to your little journalist contacts and sell them a story. I want that Luke guy looked into and I want his fucking name all over the fucking papers. Tell them what the little shit's done – exaggerate it as much as possible. I want the front page. I want him ruined. I want him flushed out."

Peter squeaked in surprise as Sirius busied himself with slinging his jacket over a chair and started to pull his hair back into a ponytail, glancing over at his friend mockingly.

"What? You don't think I know who keeps selling my private life to the papers? I'm not blind, Pete. I saw you texting that night you and James came over when I tried to off myself." Sirius said harshly, ignoring the quizzical stares of the others, "Don't look so scared, you're useful. Just make sure you print what _I_ want printed."

Nodding hurriedly, Peter scurried from the room, already dialling one of his sleazy contacts. Sirius turned to the others, each of whom were watching him worriedly. Alice stepped forward, touching his arm gently.

"Sirius," she started carefully, "What if your friend went with this man willingly and—"

"You weren't there." Sirius snapped, "You don't know."

"James told us that he heard the guy telling you that…" Frank trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, "Well, that he told you they're having sex and that it sounds consensual."

"What makes you think that?" Sirius snarled, turning on James who held his hands up in surrender, "You've been there, have you? He could have been lying, you stupid twat!"

James stepped back, shaking his head, "I'm sorry, mate. I know that, but how can you be sure?"

Evans stepped forward and Sirius didn't think he'd ever been so glad to have her in the same room. "You're forgetting the fact that I _know_ this guy." She reminded her bashful boyfriend, "This has happened before and Rem got hurt. Trust me, he would not go back to that guy willingly." She hesitated for a split second, making Sirius' heart drop, "I think. I hope."

Peter came back, interrupting Sirius' question for Evans. "I need his full name. Anyone know it?" he asked the room at large. Evans nodded.

"Lucius Malfoy." She said shakily, before covering her face with her hands. James wrapped her in his arms and soothed her with calming words whispered into her hair. Frank was gripping Alice's hand, the two of them concerned even though they'd never properly met Remus, concerned because Sirius was concerned. Sirius looked away from the four of them, suddenly feeling very much alone.

Making a decision, he started towards the front door, but was stopped by James grabbing his arm and pulling him around to face him with a frown. The others were all watching Sirius like they expected him to slit his wrists there and then. A bubble of unjust anger rose at their anxious expressions.

"Sirius, where're you going?" James asked warningly. Sirius scowled and tore his arm from his friend's grip.

"I have people to see. The Black family still has some connections who can get me this guy's address." Sirius answered, pleased when Evans' face lit up with hope, "Don't worry," he added in a softer tone, "I won't do anything stupid to myself. Not when Remus needs me."

James hesitated for a moment before nodding and waving him off, telling him to ring the police and be careful, stashed drugs in Remus' place be damned. Sirius left, pulling out his phone purposefully. It was time to see a man about a bike.

When Luke got back, it was during one of those rare moments when Remus was fully aware of himself and his situation. Having probably been out for longer than he had intended, Lucius hadn't been able to give Remus his next dose of Rohypnol, leaving him to slowly gain awareness and the ability to properly panic. Of course, since he was currently tied to a bed and didn't exactly have a lot of control over his body yet, all he could do was mutter, "Well, shit."

It took another hour before Remus could move around enough to properly assess the situation. As far as he could tell without much investigation, he was on Luke's bed – somewhere he had hoped to never be again – his wrists tied to the bed posts. The stinging on his ankles suggested there had been rope around them, too, but Luke must have been confident in his drugging of Remus, for he could move his legs freely, if with very little coordination for the moment. _Idiot_, he thought gleefully, _he's loosened my wrists as well_.

What he was less gleeful about the other sensations he was now privy to – he was as naked as the day he was born and could feel discomfort and pain inside him and across his chest. He couldn't remember what had happened, but he was willing to wager on his suspicions.

Remus tried to twist his wrists to get free, but ended up having to wait another twenty minutes to gain more control over his limbs before he could slip free. He sat up slowly, regaining his wits, and looked down. "Shit." He muttered again, running a hand down the new lacerations cut into him. He looked like a piece of wood that had been carved into – Luke had gotten all artistic on him this time, making the markings parallel, curved in places, and deeper, so they would stand out above the older, thinner scars that now served as a mere backdrop to his newest bout of stupidity.

He moved to get off the bed and hissed, the wounds tearing open and oozing blood and puss. Remus swore, stealing himself and getting to his feet, fighting his way through the light-headedness that was most likely a mixture of the roofies and a severe lack of food. He was no stranger to pain after everything he had been through since he was a child – a few scratches weren't going to stop him from escaping and gaining enough strength to come back and kill the sick fuck.

After having clumsily pulled on a pair of grey sweats he found in a nearby drawer, Remus limped awkwardly through to the kitchen for a glass of water, wanting to get out of this familiar hell as soon as possible, but unable to stand the raspy sore feeling in his throat any longer. It was when his thirst had been quenched when he heard the front door open and slam closed. He froze, listening to the footsteps storming into the bedroom. Remus was infinitely glad that he wasn't in there, all drugged up and submissive to receive the brunt of Luke's temper. Distractedly, he wondered what had riled him up so much, as he slipped something from the counter and slumped down the wall, hand carefully positioned and hidden behind him. Sure enough the footsteps turned after a few curses and entered the kitchen.

"Luke?" Remus asked, his voice hoarse. He looked up, feigning weakness and pretending to slump further down the wall, "Luke, what happened?"

"What are you doing out of bed?" Luke asked softly. Remus heard the dangerous undercurrents and prayed that his acting skills were up to par. He clenched his fingers tighter around the weapon behind his back.

"I woke up just now and…and…" Remus clutched at his stomach, ducking his head, "I don't feel well, Luke. I remember seeing you in the café – our café – and then waking up here…I was bleeding Luke. _I'm still bleeding_."

Remus was satisfied when Luke came closer as he started to panic, seemingly mollified with his pretence and crouched before him, ducking his head and lifting his chin with a finger as he laid his cane on the floor beside him. Remus looked at him properly for the first time. Dried blood crusted the side of his face near an unpleasant looking gash by his mouth and there was a large purplish bruise along his temple and eye.

"Like it?" Luke asked, his voice amused but his face void of any humour, "A guest at a certain soiree I attended earlier this evening decided to attack me. I would have been back earlier but I was retrieved by the police to give a statement. There was someone there I believe you're familiar with?"

"Luke…" Remus said warily. Luke shook his head, his eyes hardening.

"Don't you dare insult my intelligence, Remus," he said quietly, "Don't. You remember. You know what I've done, so I suggest you hand over that knife."

Remus stared at him, contemplating his chances of overpowering Luke. They were slim unless he was able to get into the position to subdue the other man. Unwillingly, he passed over the small meat knife. Luke took it and set it aside, shaking his head in disappointment.

"You know what my job is?" Luke asked. Remus made no response, only watched him closely, ready for any opening, "I'm on the directors board of a rather successful publishing house. I tend to run into authors all the time and this evening, I ran into one particular author who seems to be searching for a certain someone."

Remus froze, a frown beginning to start on his face. Luke smiled, his perilously blank expression cracking. Remus didn't like the smile any more than the stare.

"I believe you are familiar with a certain Sirius Black?"

"What did you do?" Remus demanded, earning himself a low laugh.

"Believe me, he was the one who had _me_ pinned." Luke assured him. _Only because there were probably witnesses,_ Remus thought bitterly, hoping that Sirius hadn't been hurt too much, but didn't get the chance to voice his thoughts as the sound of the front door bursting open interrupted them. Taken by surprise, Luke turned around. That was a grave mistake.

Grabbing the opportunity with both hands, Remus shoved Luke backwards and reached up for a much bigger knife that was more to his tastes and leapt on his captor to prevent him from escaping. As they heard hurried footsteps and a voice calling out – _Sirius _– Remus pressed the razor sharp blade to Luke's throat, daring him to make a sound.

"You won't kill me." Luke smirked confidently. Remus growled and reached back to grab his knee roughly. Luke hissed in pain, trying to get away, but Remus only clutched tighter.

"I won't just fuck up your leg like I did when I caught you with _her_, Lucius," Remus snarled, pressed the knife tip against the hollow at the base of his throat. Luke swallowed and the movement caused the blade to jog and pierce the skin. The man froze when he felt his blood beading along his collarbone.

"One more move." Remus warned him, "You'll find I'm skilled with chef knives."

"Dare you." Luke gambled, his mouth stretching into a wide grin. Remus lost it and brought the knife up. The kitchen door swung open at the same time as Luke kicked Remus from on top of him and at the same time as Remus brought the blade down. The numerous happenings caused the blade to go off course and only managed to slash a shallow line through Luke's shirt, drawing a line of dark blood. Luke stumbled on his knees at the sudden pain and hit his head on a cupboard, collapsing and falling unconscious. Remus lay on his back, still and exhausted, the knife falling from his grip. He could feel his own wounds pulsing out blood – if he didn't get them seen too soon, he could end up losing too much. He looked up to ask for Sirius' help, but stopped when he saw the man in the doorway.

"No…" Sirius muttered, staring down at Remus and Luke sprawled on the floor, "Not again…"

Remus opened his mouth to tell Sirius that they were okay, but already knew he wasn't paying any attention to his open eyes and heaving chest, only to the blood adorning their bodies and the floor around them. Remus tried to ask for help, but Sirius only whimpered and repeated, "_Not again_," and bolted.

Once Remus had regained the strength to move again after the violent encounter with Luke, he pushed himself to his feet and made sure to give the man a good few kicks in the ribs to make sure he wouldn't be going anywhere in a hurry anytime soon. He made his way out of the house and sat down heavily on the step, the only light coming from the dim orange streetlamps dotted along the street.

A large, monstrous motorbike was stood in front of the house, obviously having been abandoned there by Sirius when he ran off in a blind panic and left Remus to it. He knew he hadn't meant to leave him there like that, but he was still bleeding and had had to steal Luke's phone to call for help. Speaking of which, he pulled out the phone from his pocket and dialled the police first and then an ambulance. Wishing he had his cigarettes with him, Remus leant against the closed door and closed his eyes, waiting for the authorities to arrive.

Once they did there was a rather irritating panic by the paramedics as to why there was a half-naked bleeding man sitting outside a house where there had been a case reported involving drugs and a knife. The police arrived a moment later and calmed everyone down. They tried to arrest Remus until one of them spoke up and pointed out that he was the one who had called and asked for help.

It took a couple of hectic hours to get a case sorted out. Once the paramedics had bandaged him up when he refused to go with them to the hospital, Remus directed the police inside and started by showing them the stash of illegal drugs around the house. He finished with showing them the stirring Lucius Malfoy and spun a convincing story that made it look as though Remus had acted in self-defence and hadn't just attacked the guy when help had already come in the form of Sirius for the hell of it – a story that was guaranteed to make anything Luke said to look like excuses and lies. Well, he should hope so; Remus had spent the whole time from when he had been waking up on the bed to when the police arrived thinking up a solid story that would bring him no trouble.

He was released after promising to go down to the station to give his statement, but as soon as the front door on the crime scene closed behind him, Remus was hopping onto Sirius' abandoned motorbike and hoping to god that he remembered how to ride from his teen years as he turned the key in the ignition.

**A/N2: **The next chapter _will_ be the last one, but I do have an epilogue in mind. I'll write it up, but I don't know if I'll post it. I maaayy consider treating you lot with it if those hits on Behind the Charm turn into more reviews ^-^ *bats lashes and waves fresh brownies around* come on, you know you want to. I really don't want to resort to cookies, but I will if I have to.

Peace out.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** the pups are not mine, no matter how much I wish

**A/N: **Okay, so since no one bothered to review, I'm not going to post the epilogue. It's not me being selfish or needy, it's just me realising that maybe you guys aren't all that interested in this story after all, so what's the point?

Anyway, moan over. Thanks to everyone who read and hugs to those who reviewed!

**Chapter Eight**

"Sirius?"

Remus watched as Sirius flinched at the sound of his voice and waited to see if he would turn. Sirius was sitting in the parlour of his dusty old manor again, in the middle of the darkened room, on the patch of blood stained carpet where his brother had died. Remus wondered whether he would have to convince Sirius that he was really alive – the last time he had seen him, he had been pretty convinced that Remus had been dead. There was no danger of having to talk to Sirius about his state of wellbeing, for the man held out his hand. Remus went over to him, taking the offered hand and sitting beside him. They sat in silence for a moment before Remus spoke, unable to bear the silence for much longer.

"Luke isn't dead," he assured Sirius, "I only scratched him. I watched him get cuffed and dragged away by the cops myself. He was just pissed I told them he deals."

"Did you want to kill him?" Sirius asked quietly, "If I hadn't come in and messed it up, would you have killed him?"

Remus hesitated before answering truthfully, "Yes."

"Okay." Sirius murmured, staring down at his hands, "I'm sorry I reacted like that. I saw you lying there, bleeding and I thought…I thought…"

"You thought you were seeing your mother and Regulus all over again." Remus finished for him. Sirius was quiet, so Remus assured him, "It's fine. I understand. What happened to you head?"

"Hmm?"

"There's blood in your hair."

"Oh. He hit me when my back was turned."

"Bastard."

"Mmm."

"Listen, Sirius, I'm sorry—"

Sirius interrupted with a snort, "What for?"

"If you'd let me finish, you'd know." Remus snapped, taking the sting out with a playful poke, "I'm sorry for getting you involved in my morbid life."

"As far as I know, I more or less tried to push my way into your life." Sirius commented drily, "But I do seem to recall a certain someone running out after we spent a meaningful evening together. That's something you could apologise for."

"I'm sorry about that," Remus said genuinely, rocking against Sirius with his shoulder, "I get…scared, I guess, when I start to care about anyone. The only person I can get close to without thinking they're going to go all insane on me is Lils." He laughed shortly, "But it's not like I can bang her, is it?"

"You'd better not." Sirius chuckled, turning to capture Remus' mouth. It was one of those chaste, sweet kisses that had made Remus want to run before. Now it just made him shift closer and wish it never ended. He reckoned it was a tad ridiculous that it had taken getting kidnapped to make him see that he had feelings for Sirius, but there you go. At least he knew for sure now.

"Not gonna run this time?" Sirius whispered against his lips. Remus shook his head and kissed him again. When they parted, Sirius slid closer and rested his head on Remus' shoulder.

"I'm sorry." Remus said again, reaching out to rest his hand over Sirius' on his thigh. Sirius turned his hand up to entwine his fingers with Remus'.

"I think I'm in love with you, Rem." Sirius murmured. Remus felt warmth spread across his chest at the statement that had nothing to do with the blood beneath the bandages. He smiled to himself and turned to kiss Sirius' head lightly.

"Don't think I could ever say this lightly," Remus said seriously, "But I think I am, too."

They sat in an odd, companionable silence that contradicted everything they had just been through. Sirius spoke up first: "Are you going to tell me who that Luke guy was? Does he have something to do with…well, with your commitment issues?"

"He was one of my clients when I was younger," Remus sighed as Sirius rubbed soothing circles into the back of his hand, "He made me believe he loved me and that I loved him."

"What did he do to you?" Sirius asked, lifting his head to look him in the eye, but showing every sign that he already knew when he raised his free hand to trace the white scars visible where the bandage wasn't covering him.

"He hurt me." Remus whispered, "He liked to draw blood and watch me beg for him to stop. I turned to drugs – the hard stuff, not just weed – and got drunk every night before work to deal with it. I thought he loved me, thought that was just his way of showing it. It took Lily months to convince me I was going to end up dead if I stayed with him for much longer."

"Did you?" Sirius asked quietly, squeezing Remus' hand in support, "End it, I mean?"

"Yeah, but not 'cause of that. I caught the fucker with some rich, middle-aged woman. _Then_ I ended it." Remus answered bitterly, "In hindsight, I guess I was lucky. If I hadn't caught him cheating, I might never have managed to break things off."

"I'm sorry," Sirius sighed sadly, resting his head on Remus' shoulder again and huddling up close against the cold that seemed to forever haunt the house, "With that, as well as your bastard of a stepfather, I'm surprised you're not completely ruined."

"You don't think I am?" Remus asked in surprise, "I sell _sex_, Sirius."

"You didn't make me pay." Sirius pointed out, "Because you've always cared for me."

Remus considered that silently, appreciative of Sirius positive attitude towards him.

"So," Sirius said after a while, looking up at him, "Do you think we could try, y'know, _us_?"

"Sure," Remus smiled, "Prove to me that not everyone I care about is out to get me."

"I would never hurt you." Sirius said earnestly, "Never."

"I know." Remus grinned, pushing Sirius down onto the floor and looming over him. Sirius stared up at him in surprise. "You'd better prove it, then."

Sirius was still looking nonplussed, so Remus leaned down to kiss his ear and then whisper into it, "I want you to fuck me."

"No," Sirius glared, pushing him back. Remus blinked, surprised and a little hurt, but Sirius smiled and added, "I'm going to make love to you."

Remus broke out into a wide smile and rolled, pulling Sirius on top of him, pulling at his shirt to hold him close. Sirius lowered his head to kiss him, his tongue prising his lips apart to explore Remus' mouth at a leisurely pace that made him moan, long and low. As Sirius feathered his fingers gently over the bandages, the wounds under which were incredibly sore, Remus decided that there was no one else for whom he would rather fully let go.

Slipping his fingers under Sirius' shirt, Remus enjoyed the low moan he received. Sirius returned the favour by running his hands over the scars still visible, making Remus gasp and writhe under the unexpected sensitivity he found there.

"You're so beautiful," Sirius murmured against his mouth, "Beautiful Remus."

Sirius moved down, placing soft kisses along his jaw and then down his neck and across his collarbone, each one sending a flutter of arousal down to Remus' crotch. When he felt the wet warmth of Sirius' tongue on the nipple that wasn't covered by the bandage, a moan bubbled up from his chest. Sirius worked his way back up to Remus' mouth, landing a sloppy kiss there before ducking down to suck a bruise on his neck, making him arch up into him at the sensitive skin beneath his jaw being teased like that.

"Sirius," Remus whispered, running his hand through his soft, raven hair and bucking up against him. He was satisfied to hear a catch in the other man's breathing when their erections brushed together, "Please. I need you, Sirius."

Sirius, despite his own raging hard on, wouldn't comply. Instead, he continued to alternate between running his fingers along Remus' torso and alternating between sucking on his neck and chest and dipping his tongue into his mouth. In no time, he had Remus thrusting up against him, a writhing mess of moaning and pleading. Finally, after what felt like a torturous eternity, a hand ventured down to Remus' crotch, grasping at his hard cock through his stolen sweats.

"Oh, god," Remus groaned, grinding up into Sirius' hand as he kneaded the sensitive flesh, "Sirius…"

"Yes?" Sirius murmured, sucking another love bite on his neck.

"Please…"

"Hmm." Sirius hummed with a grin against his mouth before sliding down his body and tugging his sweats off, letting his erection spring up, finally free. Remus watched Sirius make a lurid show of licking his lips in a way that made his cock twitch, but didn't have to wait much longer before the other man descended on him. A loud cry escaped from Remus' lips when he was engulfed with wetness.

"Like that?" Sirius asked teasingly after pulling off with a loud, lewd pop. Remus, unable to articulate properly, simply panted and nodded. Sirius laughed and went back to work, running his tongue along the throbbing vein on the underside of his weeping cock, earning one of those embarrassing keens Remus hadn't been aware he could make. The bastard was teasing him on purpose. In frustration he reached down to wrap his fingers in the black hair, hoping to give a message.

"Oh, Christ!" Remus choked out when Sirius' tongue swiped across the head, collection the precum there. He slid his lips over the head again, sliding down this time to engulf more and more of him. Remus lifted his head when Sirius took more and more of him and almost came there and then when he saw that the other man had taken his whole cock into his throat. The though alone that Sirius was capable of such a thing almost caused his release if he hadn't squeezed his eyes tight shut again.

Sirius tapped his hip and Remus took it as a signal and thrust up, into Sirius' mouth. He groaned at the feeling of the wet warmth surrounding his cock and the perfect way Sirius stayed still, letting Remus fuck his mouth. It only took a few thrusts before he was urging Sirius off of him, his eyes tight shut as he tried to gain some composure. Once he was sure he wasn't going to come just yet, he opened his eyes and grinned down at Sirius.

"Got some hidden talents, haven't you?" Remus asked with a soft laugh, pulling him up for a kiss, tasting himself on Sirius' tongue. "Off." He added, tugging at Sirius' trousers. Sirius grinned and yanked his loose bow tie off, followed hastily by his shirt and then his trousers. Satisfied that he was now naked, too, Remus gave Sirius' cock a teasing tug, laughing when the other man cried out, not having expected the sudden contact. Sirius fit himself between Remus' thighs and settled against him, leaning down for a slow, delicious kiss that was all lazy tongues and nibbled lips.

"Love you, Rem," Sirius murmured, his hot breath in Remus' mouth as he spoke. Remus moaned at the words and rocked up against him, grazing their cocks together and wrapping his arms around Sirius' neck – that was what this was about. Giving himself to Sirius because he was loved. He loved Sirius. He wanted to give everything to Sirius, to prove to himself that he still could – that he was still able to let someone care for him as he wanted to care for others. As he cared for Sirius.

Remus wrapped his legs around Sirius' waist, rolling his hips up in a hard, indulgent roll to signal what he wanted. Sirius let out a muffled moan against his shoulder, snapping his own hips down, their precum mixing and slickening their movements.

"Now. Please, Sirius." Remus pleaded, his hands sliding down to grasp Sirius' arse, pulling him down insistently. Sirius looked as though he was about to ask a question, so Remus looked away, feeling himself blush for the first time in his life whilst talking about sex, "I don't need any preparation. I think…I think Luke may have…before he left for the party."

Remus wasn't prepared for Sirius' reaction – he had thought the man would shout and scream, pull away and refuse to touch something so dirty and used. That the reminder of Luke's intrusion would have been the last straw after accepting his violence-filled past and scars. What he did do, was stroke a hand through Remus' hair, giving him a sad, yet protective smile that was so intense it made him feel like he either wanted to cry or run again. He wasn't given a chance to do either, thought.

"No one else will ever have you like this again, but me." He murmured in his ear, making Remus shiver. Sirius reached between them to push a finger into him to check whether his suspicions were correct. When Remus saw on his face that he had been right, he sighed – and then cried out as Sirius thrust slowly into him.

Remus threw his head back, mouth gaping and silent as Sirius pressed into him to the hilt. Sirius collapsed a little, falling onto his elbows and resting his forehead against Remus' with a long, drawn out moan. They stayed like that for what felt like too long and not long enough – as connected and intimate as two people could be – before Sirius started to move. He drew out slowly, exhaling as he did. Remus watched as he opened his eyes and smiled down at him before pushing back in with one long, languid thrust, tearing a hoarse cry from him.

Remus didn't know how long they went for. He didn't know if the floorboards were painful against his back when Sirius thrust down. He didn't know why he had never done this before; no kink, no strange requests, no hurtful words – just the two of them and the feeling of their bodies moving together, skin moving slick with sweat until Remus stiffened and cried out, back arching, nails scratching. Sirius climaxed a moment later, thrusting into one last time and shuddering, mumbling a mashed, incoherent, line of "oh god Remus, yeah…love you, Rem, love you," and clutching Remus close as though afraid he would disappear. Never again.

Later, when they were both lying, happy and sated on the hard parlour floorboards and watching Luke's sweats – covered in the sticky result of their love making – burning in the fireplace, he reflected that he was pleased that Sirius was his first good experience concerning sex – after all, he fully intended to make a relationship work with him and being with Sirius had felt so different to being with anyone else, it practically felt like his first time. It turned out that, after all, giving himself over to someone so completely wasn't so difficult. Not when they loved you like Sirius did.

**A/N2: **So there we have it, the end of Behind the Charm. I hope you all liked it, because I really enjoyed writing it, even though it _was_ a little messed up that Sirius and Remus got freaky where Regulas died…well, I supposed they were both pretty messed up in this story anyway, so no harm done I hope! Won't beg for reviews, just saying cheerio!


	9. Epilogue

**Disclaimer:** the pups are not mine, no matter how much I wish

**A/N:** So I read back what I wrote on the last chapter and thought, _jeez, sounded like I was PMSing there…_ and I sounded ridiculous, so here's the epilogue for those who reviewed, those who asked and those who didn't. Whoever you are, thank you for reading :)

**Epilogue**

"Okay, Val, just leave it out for Kieran tomorrow. I'm sure he'll be able to get a decent manuscript from the old witch. I'll see you next week, if I'm available to pop in. If I'm not, please, god, make sure the place doesn't burn."

"Never again, Mr Black." Val, manageress of Padfoot Press laughed, giving the owner a small wave as he shrugged his jacket back on and called out a goodbye to the others in the office of the small, yet respected publishing house. He emerged outside, into the cold March air, rubbing his hands together before zipping up his leather jacket and heading around to collect his bike. He stood to admire the great, hulking black monster with a grin before sliding his helmet on and climbing onto the motorbike.

Sirius sped through the streets of London, weaving around the rush-hour traffic with the ease and skill of an experienced rider, towards the gallery uptown. He was buzzing, as usual, to see him, especially given the occasion. Once he reached gallery, he parked his bike and stowed the helmet away, hurrying inside. Always eager to see him at work – and sure enough, there he was.

Dressed in a grey three piece suit with a soft red tie, his hair tied back neatly and an expensive leather briefcase in hand, Remus Lupin was looking as professional as ever. Of course, there was the contrast that Sirius loved – the blonde highlights that were ever present in the brown hair, the I-don't-take-shit stance with his hips cocked and the loud, delighted laugh that echoed around the entrance of the gallery. Remus had worked his way up the ranks at the gallery to become one of the most respected employees there, what with his intelligence and guts, but Sirius was proud of the fact that success hadn't changed him.

"Tell Katy I want the new Bartosz Beda piece looked into," Sirius could hear Remus telling his assistant – who was scurrying along behind him and frantically taking down notes in a worn looking notebook – whilst gesturing with his hands. Sirius liked watching Remus gesture; it meant he was passionate about the subject, "I want it here before anyone else has it."

"Yes, sir." Katy murmured, jotting down one last thing before looking up with a smile, "And sir?"

"Mmm?"

"Happy anniversary."

Remus looked to where she was nodding and beamed when he turned to see Sirius leaning against the wall by the door. Sirius returned the smile as Remus bid his assistant goodnight and joined him in the lobby.

"Hey." he said, leaning forwards to give Sirius a brief kiss.

"You ready to go?" Sirius asked, taking Remus' briefcase and leading him out to the bike when he received a nod and a grin as an answer. Remus pulled the spare helmet out of the bike once the case had been carefully stowed away and swung himself onto the seat behind him. Sirius revved the engine and barked a laugh when arms wrapped tightly around his waist along with a surprised yelp as he sped off without warning.

Once they reached their destination, Sirius parked up and flung a proud arm out, drawing Remus' attention to the name of the restaurant he had brought them to. Remus laughed and shook his head in amazement.

"Viajante?" he asked in disbelief. Sirius nodded, pleased with his reaction. Remus looked him over and chuckled, tugging at his leather jacket. "I don't wanna know how you got a reservation here. Aren't you gonna change? People are going to think I'm the sensible one, with you dressed like this."

"Until they talk to you." Sirius smirked, earning himself a smack upside the head and a fond kiss. "Come on, let's go inside. It's bloody freezing out here."

Once they were seated in a more secluded table in the high end Portuguese restaurant, away from the clinical chefs in the open kitchen, and had been poured two glasses of sweet white wine, Sirius leant his elbows on the table and gave an affectionate smile.

"Happy anniversary." he said softly, reaching out to take Remus' hand across the table.

"Ten years since we declared ourselves," Remus commented quietly, sporting that expression that meant he was thinking about his past, "Can't believe we've made it this long."

"And we will for many more years." Sirius assured him, patting his hand, "We've got Harry's birthday party this weekend, before I forget."

"Another year where the kid looks more like his father and acts more like his mother." Remus mused with a small smile, "Honestly, it's fucking scary."

"I know." Sirius chuckled, shaking his head, "He's a great kid, right? Gonna be six. What do you think we should get him?"

"You could give him the chance to take his pick from your books." Remus suggested. Sirius choked on his wine and thumped his chest, staring at Remus, who suddenly understood and quickly amended, "Oh, jeez, I don't mean _your_ books. Just some of the kid's ones Padfoot Press publishes. He's an avid reader y'know."

"Thank god." Sirius muttered, wiping a hand over an amused smile as their first appetiser arrived – amaranth with sorrel, "I really don't think a series about the criminal inner workings of a brothel would be seen as suitable by Lily."

"Probably not," Remus smirked, "Even though the kid's gonna find out she worked in one someday. How are you doing with the last book, by the way?"

"Good," Sirius nodded, "I'm hoping that I'll have it finished by next month. How's work for you?"

"The usual," Remus commented casually. Sirius lifted his gaze from his plate, sensing there was more. He tilted his head quizzically at the smile waiting to burst forth. "And, you know, I got promoted to senior curator."

"WHAT?"

"Sirius, calm down, we're in a nice restaurant." Remus scolded, but with a wide grin. Sirius laughed joyfully and kissed Remus' hand before resting his forehead on it, closing his eyes. Remus thought, for a strange moment, that he was praying.

"I can't believe it," he smiled, before backtracking and amending, "No, I can believe it. So does this mean you're surpassing me in pay, then?" he added cheekily.

"I'm up to forty-five thousand a year." Remus said smugly, "Not as much as you, but more than I'd ever dared to dream. More than I deserve."

"No, never." Sirius protested, "You deserve so much more."

"If you say so." Remus smiled thankfully, squeezing his hand, "So, y'know we'll be able to afford some really good art, now? For the apartment?"

Sirius rolled his eyes, "Fine, fine. One or two, but that's all."

"I really don't see why you only want my work on the walls," Remus chuckled, "It's not worth anything."

"Your fancy job has obviously turned you into a snob," Sirius smirked, "They're sentimental. And anyway, I don't get the art you like. I definitely get the one you painted of us for the bedroom last year."

"Fine, fine." Remus laughed quietly, "But we'd better hope no one ventures into our room and has a heart attack when they see that fucking thing."

Sirius laughed and Remus gave him a questioning glance.

"Sorry," Sirius apologised, taking a sip of wine, "It's just, when you're dressed like that…and you're supposed to be so cultured and sensible, but you still talk like truck driver. God, I love it."

"Oh, really?" Remus asked, leaning back when their waiter came to replace their plates with the next appetiser, "You like me talking like that?"

"Mmm," Sirius hummed with a small smile, giving his boyfriend a wink that promised an abundance of dirty talk later that night. Remus smirked back, but the expression quickly into something more sombre.

"Thank you, Pads," he said with a small sigh, using the name he had made up for Sirius when Padfoot Press had been created, "If it weren't for you, I'd probably be…well, you know. So, thanks for getting me into college and then uni – if you hadn't have helped, I never would have made senior curator, let alone anything else like it."

"I know." Sirius smiled, kissing Remus' hand again, "If you hadn't have come along, I'd probably be dead."

"Don't say that." Remus whispered.

"Happy tenth year anniversary."

"I love you, Pads."

"I love you, too, Rem."

Remus sighed happily as he watched Sirius wink at him from over the rim of his wine glass and thought, quite contentedly, that things could not have turned out any better.


End file.
